To Start a Wander

by Tricia Knoll

Older than little, here on a threshold
to the woods that reconfigures
what was and is new. A worn duff
path to a next grand possibility,
a tinge of silver tomorrow in my sunset.
Do not speak of jawbones
called out long ago, just looseness
unwinding, how even a furled feather
hovers for footsteps
to start a wander,
a wander into deep green,
resolving the me
that still worships green.