Things are getting ready
out of sight.
Stars and moths.
And rinds slanting around fruit.
But not yet.
One tree is black.
One window is yellow as butter.
A woman leans down to catch a child
who has run into her arms
Apples sweeten in the dark.
I read this yesterday in a fleeting second and said, “Yes.” I say it again.
it stopped me in my busy little tracks too.