grieve not
the last blue blade
of Kentucky
as years
where the rain fell upon
the reasons for staying
outnumber the stars
– weight to the heart
unconfessed

by the saying aloud
a giving to name
of ways now grown over
as one time I knew –
was proof of the falling
when all that was left
was an echo of days
gone between

breathing
returns me –
as seasons to home
will sit me a sun
at the edge of the sky
pastures made new
by the burning away
– rivers made wild
by our tears

. . .