An Autumn Epithet

My shoulders ache from another day.

I sit on my porch and the sunlight

Warmly caresses the cool air

Amongst the breeze ruffling the

Oak leaves of my favorite tree

Like feathers. 

My heart aches for family lost;

Some deceased, some distant,

But all coiling around the fascia

Within my chest, like a familiar

Touch: breathing, pulsing

Laden with spirit.

The subtle song of the birds 

And dancing of conifer and willow

Soothe the muscles and skin

That cover my head where it hurts,

And the creaking of the branches

Communicate their longing.

My cigarette is low, and I clear

My throat. I am bundled in

A blanket and a hoodie, the air

Cool on my skin, and the sensation

Of my pen, is as familiar as the

Wind that rustles the pages of

My notebook, thick and filled

With thought and emotion.