Made Flesh

FALL creeps like a slow flame
over a maple limb by limb
leaves that once fanned their hands
open wanting to put themselves
all over everything begin to glow
brave vermillion and lively yellow
let at last their fingers curl
into the palm and let go

The same fire is touching us
around the edges licking wrinkles
into the corners of our eyes
making the skin inside our elbows
silky as old coins
And when we lie
together and I feel your bones
blaze and the rose of your face unfolds
and the incandescence of your skin
crackles like the paper at the tip
of a drawn-on cigarette and dies
in a final fluttering of ash

Then then we feel death
as the deepest coming then we ease unhurried
into the bud of body then we learn
little by little to relinquish
gracefully and less afraid
each time to let each other slip
slowly out of our clasp made
fire made flower made flesh.

Craig Arnold