When traveling strange-paths of cool redress,
Just as though traveling Autumn’s thereon,
Remember to tip your brow to express
A fundamental disbelief, moved on.

Move on, again, across Autumn’s finesse!
Hold on to solid liquid fuel! Behold,
Slow world! Nature’s cloth has addressed
The patterns needed to unfold green gold!

When resting-weary graces life’s curved debt,
Just as though cradled by Autumn’s caress,
Slow world slumps into heartbeat’s silhouette
Creating absence-tied benevolence.

So shushed once more, Autumns fail, thereupon
I wish my mind good luck, battered-withdrawn.

Erin Elizabeth Kelly-Moen
© Copyright 10/14/12