how will i remember
when pieces
are lost
when the box i once owned
burned last july
how will i know
what of love
i have carried
when robbed of the warmth
of your hand
wrapped in mine
how will i know
love was for keeping
when the light
on my porch
has burned out
how will i see
through the dawn
to remember
it is you
i have ached –
coming home
for me now

. . .