of moments
I’ve known
a path through
the tears
a faint recollection
of days unto years
poetry carved
as rings to
the wood
of seasons and reasons
tethered to place
come as a lover
of longing embrace
as nights without
slumber
whispers
to lace

silence the same
as forgetting

some other
another
of dreaming I knew
the weight of remember
was passing me
through
noonday and were you
to hold me
like this
as a moment of always
burned to a kiss
lest living
come easy
as light on the morn
as wake to the keeping
was love
to discern

. . .