on long nights
when the moon is cool
to wait
(I have before)
spent of breath
my last
to speak (your name)
smoke rings
bear the silence
of spirits gathered home
(time is lost
awaiting signs)
and coming back
the same

ten thousand lives
for one more death
(in places)
we remain
might comfort cling
as hours
for a moment
(held onto)
a change of course
becoming more
than e’er I was (this way)
pulled awake
by dreaming –
signs (before I knew)

. . .