leaves whoosh across the sunny path,

perpendicular to my westward trek

tomorrow, my friends, a different story

in explorer-mode, I stroll along

a newly discovered trail.

its path, dotted with hedge apples,

weaves and winds

through grassy woods, gentle hills

where cattle grazed, not so long ago.

I’m as thrilled as a child, the child I still remain,

transported beneath an autumn-blue sky

to a magic surround, one I don’t ever want to leave —

you can’t make me!

we discuss AI, the Battle of Thermopylae

one’s personal canon, pop quizzes on Halloween

self-checkout, self-nurturing bedtime podcasts —

I feel closer to you now than I’ve ever felt,

our long-distance mother-child symbiosis

sporadic moments of joy

erupting in everyday witness

of what is & what still might be