One Single Impression: Passing

"The leaves are turning,"
Says a voice from home.
"And the nights are cool."

From seven hundred miles away

I feel the cool
And take the turn
In the sand

In the long light

Of the late August sun
Reaching across the beach
Like the open arms

Of a gracious
Love.

There is
No rush to come or go,
To make even the slightest
Move.

Enough to know
The gesture,
The look,

And how it feels to be

Alive and well
And in love,

Open
To the open arms
Of the continuous present.

We are here.

One Single Impression