Authors:
  • Now the seasons are closing their files
    on each of us, the heavy drawers
    full of certificates rolling back
    into the tree trunks, a few old papers
    flocking away. Someone we loved
    has fallen from our thoughts,
    making a little, glittering splash
    like a bicycle pushed by a breeze.
    Otherwise, not much has happened;
    we fell in love again, finding
    that one red feather on the wind.

    Ted Kooser (2005). “Flying At Night: Poems 1965-1985”, p.96, University of Pittsburgh Press