all at once I hide myself,
with found cravings in a coat pocket
hidden in autumn’s closet.
a yellow leaf touched my face
and I wanted this silence:
to bury my nose in your neck
like woodsmoke and amber,
until I could not see,
only hear the sylvan incantations
of the crickets,
and perhaps look up to see the others all
clambering for kindling —
needles and leaves,
while we were alone in a circle of stones,
like an ember, left burning.
(as published in Rushlight, fall 2015)