Leaf Litter on Rock Face

A poem by Heather McHugh:

Things are not
unmoving (or else what   
 
is ing there for?)
The things once-living   
 
fall on the never-living   
all the more movingly for the eye
 
that passes over them.
The wind wells up
 
to spill a trail
of onces off the nevers,
 
take opaque from eye
to mind, or near it —
 
every rocking takes some leaving
to a stonish spirit.
 
___
 
Here’s a brief bio of the poet.
 
I’m not quite sure what the poem means,  but it’s getting me ready for the Fall here in Austin: a great time to sit out in the chilly morning and drink coffee and see what the birds have been up to since the sun came up. It’s also a great time to visit the garden; what survived the summer will be blooming and ready for harvest, while the newly planted members of the community will be just poking their heads above the wood-framed beds, surveying their new world.
 
 
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