might I help you
to remember –
of moments (all but gone)
how sweet the rain
(of words)
against the moon

of graces given
heart and soul –
(and when will you
return)
to chase the chill
another rhyme to bloom

as whispers
pass unspoken
the same
(most every time)
a promise scattered far
on ancient wings

willing us to wonder
did you know
(how could you know)
of birds
the same as night
ten thousand sing

their way across
a paper sky –
(once you told me why)
tho everything
(my everything)
has changed

deeper now –
the places kept
are tempered
into bone –
with all I know –
(familiar
falls) the rain

. . .