Tree's
faint
grey holds
a fragile light
to fill empty space
behind the window where I wait.
It brightens as it tumbles to fold along the ground.
The silence from another time
surrounds this fog that
floats, alive.
In the
eve
of
my stay
what can I
say to find my place
among the giants rising here
to tie their strength, mobility, their buoyancy
to formation of a newer
strategy. To merge
my kinship
with such
old
oak