were seasons past
eternal remembrance –
no sky filled with smoke could erase
the magic of moments
from far far away –
and the coming back home
to embrace

another noonday
of rain to my soul
ashes or leaves –
I’m not sure
but of those were the same
your hand wrapping mine
and a promise
where nothing was heard

but the slow steady drum
of forever receding –
matchless to fate (restless stars)
stings as the echo
of where you were falling
tears (don’t they see
I can’t go)

living comes still by the same
crooked fence
and a stand of pink dogwood
in spring

what did you say
I wonder so often –
even now I go back (in dreams)
to lie just this close
as I can to the parting –
might I linger too long
with a ghost

wanting (for something)
one more everafter –
pieces and places (you know) –
as the drum ceased its beating
and guns met with thunder –

the arms
that forgave me
let go