Tuesday, November 1

The shadow of a leaf returns to the leaf
When I was a prince each moment
Ventured outward
Returning to me covered in green leaves
I had a country I had a plan
At the center of creation
Dazzling waters would rise and fall
Small birds would sing in the leaves and small
Hands gather mountains into a ring
O my estranged, my dearest, the world
Can only be safeguarded by shadows
Dying unafraid into real colors
In your sunlight

-- Donald Revell, lines from "Tithon" American Poetry Review 40:6