Erin Wilson
BECOMING THE SILENCE OF FOXES
Crouched
in the autumn wood,
I remove
the map of my skull.
I grow
down,
out
and upward.
Rain
becomes lost
inside
the raining of leaves.
I try to conjure
enough love
for every leaf
that ever was.
Yellow leaves
fall dreamily
through air
and enter me.
Look!
My memories
are thinking me into
physical existence.
I become
candlelight
inside candlelight
inside candlelight.
