beyond the grace
of evening come –
and feather beds
to rest beneath the bone
lessons become layers
of our coming back to find
was all that we had wanted
what was yours –
the same as mine

as cool the sweetest
morning breeze –
into the place we know –
and there but for a moment
silence speaks
of paths resolved the distance
a promise once we made
to come the night
remembering
our home

Author’s Note: For those I hold close ~ who (this week)
have from this  tired winter have flown ~ eternal is the spring they love.
Jerry, Andrew, Troy, and Marc