Passing

Passing as parting, inconceivable 
So convincing is the sun of presence
As it warms the heart to gold honeyed hope
Though half we know no light without shadow

 I remember soft smile of November
That came to deceive with catastrophe
Half a life later I sit same teak chair
Reminisce how joy and woe become joined

The leaves at my feet hold their burnished browns
Their crackle is happy, sun’s currency
Stored in what has come to pass,  swift and slow
My melancholy celebrates then now

Passion after passion can’t help but plant seeds
That grow from ambiguities of me