Family-Style Moon

hi old friend

in the rocks by a rush of change & river

there you are in the mountains at this time

of the year with your dog & your face

maybe a backpack situated on yourself some-

where & the weather now is what it is

a hint of tomorrow in the breath of today

the autumn air moon-scented even now

juniper green granite duff serpentine knots

for why else has it all (the universe)

come to just these convolutions & gleams

in the mode of confession: a small yellow

Chinese-style tea cup without handles has

seven chocolate chips resting nuzzled

at the bottom like baby owls in deadfall pine

the lyrics to the song go:

you know when/

it’s time to leave/ by the feathers in/ the

damp of fall

(or some such) which is

how a typewritten adventure homage unfolds

herself on the second night of a full moon

our collective giant O of refracted sunlight

making jasmine call the cloud’s bluff

about who is a purer white

our cottontail of love

gone hopping into

clean cotton

cloth