, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

It seems a month
has passed since Sunday
~ last I checked the trees were bare.
The orchard grieves the scent
of apples ~
and grace is showing

The fence is down
~ though not to notice
how I missed the letting go.
With heart so focused on forever ~
never took of time
to know.

Nor planned to be
this far from leaving
~ this near to hearts already closed.
Twelve from gone
and two from dying ~
in the same sweet bed
where I was born.

Eighteen dreams
and sixteen babies
~ lost my faith in men this time.
Begged an end tho nothing mattered
more than this ~
my truth to find.

From here to go
as where life leads me
~ takes me back
the way I came
to unremember every mercy ~
kisses taste for years
the same.

As gravel roads
in twilight glisten
~ empty rooms
(to candle flare).
Paced the porch
from birth to breaking ~
awaiting dawn
to find you