Autumn Night
At an uncertain
well-past-midnight hour,
body stirred, person
in it, of long
association,
stumbled from
warm bed and carpet
to cool-under-foot
tiles of a moist bathroom.
Face, avoid the mirror.
Feet, shamble
past the window.
It was the light
from the night sky,
lacking moon,
lacking cloud,
lacking wind,
gentle, steady,
circumambient -
foreshadowing
lawn-wide dew
or a first frost,
that redeemed
the occasion.
Out there, down there,
morning would show
more new mushrooms
sturdy of stalk,
fragile of canopy,
keeping old promises
made last year,
as the earth turned -
shyly pleased to be seen.
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