by Trenten Johnson
1. Buddhism there is something exquisitely unspeakable about the first day of fall whose leaves billow a swarm of butterflies and land perfectly no matter when or where. 2. Rains Come Before the week of rain stewed the delicate dusting of fallen leaves each one a crumbling husk into the shell of smashed pumpkins on the road a week after Halloween. You should have seen it then when the wind danced with brown and yellow and all life spread out nude and clean under a rustling blanket in the weak sun. A moment's reverence only until the inevitable crushing stiffness of my boot left the first mark of loss an instant crumbled and left to fade. If anything is left now of the world made by that first stumbling change it is dissolved in sodden grey skies. Somewhere where no rain comes the leaves are always fresh fallen where I will not step again. 3. Intentionality The leaves plastered wet to rust stained cement could not be more perfectly placed if God personally dictated each individual impression. Trenten Cox Johnson, 1982–2005, earned his BA in English with a minor in philosophy at BYU in April 2005. He presented his original poetry portfolio at the National Undergraduate Literature Conference (WSU, 2005) and later that year received an honorable mention for the 2005 Ethel Lowry Handley Poetry Prize. During his time at BYU, Trent was a member of FAD., the Forum for Artistic Discussion, and April, a writers' group.This is his first posthumous appearance in Inscape. Trent would like to take this opportunity to perform the Riki Tiki booty shake.
