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.