Harvest

 To arrive at a placeI have known before down the roadI did not take; August turns toautumn chill combine harvestsgolden grain & the glow ofeclipsed moon crosses the ancientvalley. To know so muchI did not know & yet little changes. The shadow of a smilein another’s eye a small child’s footsteps. To arrive at this place& know it for the first time. The beloved offersa single rose: white like naked page,yellowed now with time & age;a mystery still glimpsed the stage empty.