Fall Day

Painting by Triptyph Dimitry Stepanoff


Fall Day

They are blowing the leaves away
and then together. They are doing
things with leaves to the leaves.
And taking the leaves away.
This happens. Philosophers
have no convincing explanation.
Biologists keep canny silence.
Tell me how many leaves they say
what kind of leaves they say
and how many of each kind they say.

These questions are the same as silence.
When it is cold the mind walks
a long way to school because
at a certain point in childhood
you stop having a body.
It happens at a particular street
the street has a name the bus passes.
The clothes are still there still real
they move by themselves.

This is the meaning of childhood:
you do not exist. The Count of Monte Cristo
is waiting to become you
he has a sword he has a girl at either elbow
offering him green wine and hashish paste.
You have read about the world now here it is.
Cars and trucks hurry past
terrified of your emptiness.
Even the leaves are frightened of you
or would be if there were still leaves.


Robert Kelly

Posted over on Conjunctions