further than most
were daring adventure
and wandered I more
to those moments
of flight

truth held by silence
together (this ever)
and yet for the soul –
to remember me now

as writing to places
undone by the rhyme
and what was the vow
worth holding in trust
awaiting again
this reason to come

of somewhere
a life
never planned
awaits in the fold
of venus to clovers –
as love without need
for a time

or division of meaning
what of mine yours –
as the face
now framed
by the sun

in the dawn
where my dreams
are gathered to seed
and I –
but a pillow of stars