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