today i can’t help but listen, intently, to the color of change
wind wraps well around the edges of my ears
scratch and scuttle of last fall’s leaves on raked dirt
subtle sounds of sliding skeletons of preterite green
sliding softly and sticking to surfaces of unexpected rain puddles
pausing, my eyes blur to everything but the borders between
glistening golden oaks with convincing old branches
that shiver away from buoyed blasts of cold wind
silently sucking my skin from my bones and the sight from my eyes
it’s the last day before the first one
and the sparkling sounds and sun on my neck make it clear
that today I smell the sound of rainbows and digital dreams
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