Clouds darken as they roll west

like a slow wave of the heavens.

Shades of silver shift to darker charcoal

 in just one deep breath.

Sheltered under this canopy of old growth trees,

doubt makes way for confidence on these

crooked pathways.

And long-ago tombstones sing of lives gone by

in this cloud of today.

Peeking from behind brambles

persimmons hang ripe, and plentiful

 from a hilltop tree.

Their saturated orange flesh is calming.

Flesh robust and sure,

just like these pioneers buried here,

and Kalapuyans before.

Early winter air nips at my face,

announcing this time

of bare branches

draped in grays and browns,

with an invitation…

“Say there,

you, walking and kicking up the leaves,

 Welcome

to the darkness, to the deep quiet.”

“Welcome to this place

where silhouette and shadow

uncover what has been waiting.”

Be it love or loneliness, or dreams

hidden in the stone.

N.L. Reynolds

October 2022