The Escape

oh my goodness
how i love it when the leaves are sitting quietly in my yard
and just as i step forward
they run away from me,

scattering like prey.

it is cold outside
and the gasoline colors of fall have begun to
BUURRRN away

a river of hickory smoke has risen into the sky,
from the soot of the steakhouses. 

it's as if the world is suddenly hanging in mid-air,
asleep on a wooden feather,
quixotic,
soft and welcoming.

with each exhale, the fog of my breath reminds me that my heart is still beating hard
and that my coat is keeping me warm. 

and it's times like these i feel the electricity,
the GRAVITY
of being alive.