EMBLEM

The shriveled-leaf oak enshrined in gold
at the end of my block by the last slanting
rays of sun between the roof tops—
I am drawn to you, like a message
flaming out. You can’t tell me
all that I’ve missed today, as I stumble into the dusk’s first radiance, here
at the end of the weekend, shaking hands with everyone I’ve already forgotten.
But I stand by you for a moment, and pretend so.