Intersection

While I waited

fall came on.

I sat in one

bright interstice

and nothing

filled, it was

already at the brim—

I did not want

the moment to end

then stopped wanting

so I could

be, not yearn,

for however long

low sun determined

I would not go

unimprinted

by the light that came,

knew to come,

intentional

and unconcerned

with being known.

Source: Poetry (September 2025)