I caught autumn in my throat once, stirrings
of September leafing to life along
the lonely avenues young adulthood
maps itself with—if only I could go back

to those days with what I know now, say all
the insufferable afterthoughts dead
and hung upside down on the branches of
my heart of hearts. The hips & sighs I dreamed

astride my spirit then, array me now,
a coterie of nubile ghosts bucking
the thrum of nostalgia that suffuses
each neural pathway with the light of dim

kitchens. & colostomy bags. Love is
a dying into only. Never change.

Dante Di Stefano is the author of five poetry volumes, most recently the book-length poem The Widowing Radiance (Bordighera). He lives in Endwell, New York, with his family.

Photo courtesy of Wesley Tingey via Unsplash+.