Another year gone, leaving everywhere br its rich spiced residues: vines, leaves, br br the uneaten fruits crumbling damply br in the shadows, unmattering back br br from the particular island br of this summer, this NOW, that now is nowhere br br except underfoot, moldering br in that black subterranean castle br br of unobservable mysteries - roots and sealed seeds br and the wanderings of water. This br br I try to remember when time's measure br painfully chafes, for instance when autumn br br flares out at the last, boisterous and like us longing br to stay - how everything lives, shifting br br from one bright vision to another, forever br in these momentary pastures.