the sky wraps its blue around
the trees. It's almost autumn
and the angels
have all gone south,
folding their wings so
they can finally sleep at night.

i have lavished my affections there
and in the northeast
and in the midwest,
not to mention california.

love spreads itself in widely
divergent directions--but like air
it can stretch a lot
before it breaks.

some things  are beautiful because
they will change with the passage of time,
and some because they never change;
but sometimes, the saw-toothed edges of regret
shred the pages of my calendar

and the weight of loss
compresses every moment
into what it is now, what it used to be,
and what it will become,

and the only way out
is to keep going through it