Not the Same

There lay against the hill
dull shadows of aged afternoon sun
looking around some shoulder
or under a table holding autumn supper.
Were you caught as you tried to pass
from one road side din of tree and shrub
to another place warmer,
darker, safer?
Were you spread under dry leaf litter
decayed to hold no form, save
the dull browns of pigment cloth hastily
thrown over falling shoulders?
I thought I knew you when I
looked through August dried grass,
having to hide.
I sensed the familiar in seeing
a thing I knew as a child,
knowing it not the same thing.

-Scott L. Strait