hinarising

dog crap dries in the sun

in this place

this spinning place

gathering uncertainty in my arms

arms of needing

and not having

of stumbling

and crying

in dry laundry

wondering if fall is coming

alone in its coolness

color falling from trees

and needing

to be numb

of her movement

falling from my chest

falling from my eyes

her sound of blue skies

and crisp air

and of kicking this dog crap

high and wide

and away

and falling.