taunt me not
with whispers
music long since stilled
or move my soul to grieve
more than it does

for touch –
without forsaking
starlings black the trees
stirring in the places
once you loved

comfort me
with consequence
pushed onto the edges –
but leave me not
with bruises of despair

another day
of memories –
wrapped in sleeves of linen
tempt me not to hold them
more than this –
would taste your name
of autumn sage
yet ne’er its sound to soften
as days go by
(places you have been)

years have served me best
to soothe the longing
(is my soul)
though echoes come
as silent sighs
trapped beneath my skin