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remember me
to empty arms –
an ember of belonging
places reconstructed by the light
remember these
of mysteries –
awaited your divine
petals opened now
will never close

remember me
the dapple sun –
as folded to her rising
the memory of raindrops
on the lawn
garner me
a time to tell –
promises forgotten
of breath returned in secret
blue within the smoke

remember me
as ink professed –
chapters now fulfilling
markers where the end was meant to be
carry love
as autumn crops –
harvest for the journey
a winter not yet satisfied
of snowflakes

remember me
of falling down –
and evenings spooled with grace
of slow unwinds
beneath the pines –
to bring me back this way
remember us –
to evermore
was there we first began
with hope for one more season
to every might have been

remember me –
the summer storm
of winter
to the trees

. . .