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what winters
have you worn away
with rosary and cotton
beneath the fold
where all your secrets lay
of heaven come
one night to find you
standing by my gate
caught between the first to leave
and coming back
to stay

with stories
of your wanderings
beyond the reach of light
with questions of your knowing
where to go
moonlight casts a shadow
on every present tense
would show the way
you knew
to find me home

wrapped in yellow flowers
once the same you loved –
grew along the pasture
a moment
passing through –
remember how
the cedars ached
to block the view of morning
of praying eyes
before the skies
were blue

how many times
have I heard tell
of blossoms in December
beyond the reach
of reason
asleep beneath the snow
flickers bloom
a sweet perfume
of mystery and madness
secrets of all colors
awaiting you
to know

. . .