Between Squall Lines
Vanaprastha

As the morning dew

lingers longer

and the evening light

softens

and the colours

slowly slowly

ungreen

Autumning

what must a tree unkeep
before it begins to sky?

Oldering

she walks edgeward
forestward
among the shadows
of duties gathered

Loosening

Unshouldering

she turns

slowly slowly

towards the forest

to where the paths
she once named
begin to weave

Interwoven

no longer searching
she lets them guide her

to where the rain gathered
in the hollow of a stone
slowly unshapes

as the water quietens
between squall lines

an old chestnut
hollows

through her
the young
find earth