laika

i watch you all dreaming death among the autumn leaves,
reds and yellows falling, as they do.
i breathe the sky. perhaps the last of a species,
the last of a language, i have no other tune.
in this hemisphere wild winds sweep the trees, petals fly,
tender green beginnings break through the silent branches of winter.
life's longest journey between the seasons. this most improbable song,
most beautiful gift, most resonant truth, unchanged. beyond hope,
waiting becomes the destination.