CALCULUS
Fall is the season of remembering
the leaves last flame to dying
dry and brittle as old hearts
it takes an act of will to recall what
had been before our attempts to warm
against the coming cold
truth in fragments
change over change
I keep coming back
(they keep poisoning me
I keep coming back)
returning
like the next dream
no thought of time
but time enough
I suppose
change in me
over change in you
we are what we leave behind
an old fedora
a knit tie
photos of forgotten people
notes about birthdays
small things
that make clearer
a life whole
the trajectory of lines
never quite complete