After

The air is cooler,

brushing at us at our edges in gentle hymns,

humming of the days that have just finished their passing

and faded quietly behind our jutting shoulder blades.

Those places will be quiet now, settling before they are forced again to separate life.

We are quiet now as well.

Nostalgia comes easy in weariness,

when we are unsure of where we are going,

certain only of the goodness of the places we have been.