[…] Will I ever
stop wanting more than what I’ve already got, I used to wonder,
not realizing yet that’s all ambition is, finally; I thought
humility would be a smaller thing, a quieter
thing, it seems I was wrong about that, too. I can’t
decide if it’s just my being so much older now, or if it’s
always been true, that winter foliage
is the prettiest foliage.

Carl Phillips, “Anywhere Like Peace”, in Then the War: And Selected Poems, 2007–2020