Back To Why We’re Really Here

by Jess Walter


I watch you read 

from your book,

you content 

and quiet 

as a sleeping cat,

the book loved and tattered 

like an old dog,

and all I can think 

is how you’re 

the sound of a leaf 

parting from its branch 

in autumn.

I begin to remove my 

eyes from your 

face, half-lit by sky,

then I hear the leaf fall 

against the ground,

and I realize 

you are that sound,