into thin air.

The air is thin,

alight with autumn

trees

crowding over me,

in the backyard.
The air is thin,

its noise strewn

away on the skin
like your clothes

—still warm
on the bed and around,

where all the shivers

drown.
The air is thin,

spreading between

those autumn

trees, making

paper kites
there, beyond

the reaches
of town.
And they drift,

drift away into thin
air.
There, in the mind

beyond
the reaches

of town.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

_______________

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Photo: Ava-rebekah RAHMAN ~ https://www.instagram.com/avarebekah/

 

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