As you pass by, with your lungs full of international forest fire,
can you picture these hills covered with snow?
They were, not long ago, and will be again – do not
forget that the dry summer air will turn damp,
the leaves will fall and decompose, their smell the only
way of reminding us in winter that once they were alive
up there. I think part of us falls with every season, and this is the reason the years
go by faster – we get lighter, our steps on this earth get quicker. As time goes on,
we remember sooner that the season is turning and think –
this is how we get closer to eternity. When the years
blur together, and you’re here now, but you’re also five years ago, and you’re
pushing your thoughts into tomorrow.
These streets will clear when air turns colder,
the sidewalks will blacken under sheets
of rain. Be there again, if you have before, and be still.
Ignore me, if you must, I’m only words in a phone booth.
But, if you’re still there, if you’re curious,
breathe deep of the cold, winter air, and
ask yourself the question you’ve been wanting to ask this entire time –
when summer ends,
what part of you will fall?
By D'Arcy White
D'Arcy's poem is a runner up for our third poetry contest. Thank you, D'Arcy, for your submission!