Before the sun rises, I will be gone. When I pass among the trees, I will disappear… These trees that more and more reserve to themselves They touch me; they lull me into a sleeping state, A grove of aspens that whispers at twilight, A good day to breathe, a good night to sleep. In those first moments of dusk, In the waste of evening light, Leaves touching … it all, it all comes back, My life settled into the rhythm of the leaves. This is my joy and pain, a simple song sung well. A tree as the sun falls, becomes a darker shadow. And me? I will be the quiet hum of heartbeats beneath the stars.

— “A Blessing”

• James Wright