top of page

Steven Aliano

Picture Frame

You cannot 

be in the mirror 

and say that you are here.


Dead air will be dead air,

no matter how badly
you hope it’s full.


I wait on drifts of a breeze.

Seasons change, rain showers—
hail turns to snow.


An orange leaf falls

on my window,

blowing off and gone.


The only sign that 

Fall is still here

and won’t be, soon.

bottom of page