Wind Shaking Leaves The wood we burn is not the wood we own. None of it was ever ours. Not the cabin, not the key to unlock a life of wonder. Smoke from our fire threads branches in a needlework that fades at the first breath. It thins into a sky inhaling the warming air, and the finch song of a spring catching its hem in the early buds. Everything is loosed toward a light that sizzles, even as night closes the distances to stars and dreams. While we snuggle into sleep, and each other, a siren warns of something lost or taken. But the ash keeps rising and the one voice I follow through the dark is yours.
Michael T. Young’s third full-length collection is The Infinite Doctrine of Water. He received a Fellowship from the New Jersey State Council on the Arts. His poetry has appeared or is forthcoming in numerous journals including Breakwater, FRiGG, The Inflectionist Review, and Talking River Review.
Amethyst Review 