All week the wind
has been bringing things down.
A branch across the path.
Rain against the window.
The first yellow leaves
stuck to the soles of my shoes.
I empty my pockets:
a receipt,
a stone,
your note reminding me
‘Mommy, I love you!’
The receipt goes in the bin.
The stone returns to the sill.
I smooth your note
with the side of my hand
and leave it
where I will find it again.
