impermanence
note from self

it’s a sobering truth
trees sway in the wind
leaves turn crimson
then crinkle and fall
winds flutter and
bear them away

she guzzles breath
so glad for her life
it is passing so fast
she sweeps marrow
into marvel
owls hoot her home
back into her bones
for a blink

2022 ©Amrita Skye Blaine
I’m writing a poem a day. These are drafts—not final versions.