the last we were
a stain of glass
patchwork prisms overhead
songbirds swimming through the wood –
boughs to cedar blankets spread
as burst to breath of early bloom
red and yellow
blue and bright –
I held you close
before the sun –
touch made softer by the light

how it was (I never knew
for certain) you were meant for more
than destiny
I’d found myself
in places come as love before
I was new (as you were old)
sixteen rings around the tree
lacey edges fit just so
to guard our paradise of dreams

might I
to fate –
as then (was now)
recall the magic of your name
when spoke aloud
into the night –
would bring me back
the way we came

the last we were
a stain of glass
patchwork prisms overhead