For Tam

Last Days
~ by Mary Oliver (of course, who else!)

Things are
    changing; things are starting to
            spin, snap, fly off into
                    the blue sleeve of the long
                             afternoon. Oh and ooh
come whistling out of the persished mouth
      of the grass, as things
turn soft, boil back
      into substance and hue. As everything,
           forgetting its own enchantment, whispers;
                 I too love oblivion why not it is full
                        of second chances. Now,
hiss the bright curls of the leaves. Now!
   booms the muscle of the wind.

xoxo, h