in the quietly unfolding
vanilla satin wings –
where shutters made of music
bang the porch
leaning in (as leaning does)
just before the fall
of breath into beginning
us again

in the rhythm of remember
a poem stirs awake –
counting now the verses
(one by one)
measured by the silent steps
from one end to the other
lives restored
as lanterns barely burned

forever stops to witness
graces undeclared
patches sewn together
(in the dark)
leaving spared another day
for smiles without the taking
was here we learned
to love –
here we stay

. . .