in the orange
of the lilies –
do you find me growing there
wrapped in vine
the shade of april moss

whenever night is come
into the shadows where you lay
do you dream that I’m the sun
and take me in

in the lullabye
that carries you
before your eyes awake
do you wonder to the me
that rests beside

or linger by
an empty field
so sure you saw me there
walking tween the rows
of bergamot

do you worry of the notes I left
fragile leaves of time
or nailed against a bridge
you burned before –
do you see the signs
(do you know the way)
I came to find you waiting –
as the final wash of tides
into the bay

do you hear my voice
in private –
some faint amen I spoke
hastened by a prayer to recollect
the rest we knew
the last to prove
there would be no other ‘other’
no fall me down
to pick me up
again

do echoes sit the places
where we gathered by the noon –
will life return
before the wind’s caress –
what of us is left to be
when everything is gone
will then the orange
bloom within
your vest

or cling to that which
beats within –
tho covered now by scars
whene’er you see the dove
without a song
will you know me
(as you know me)
in the way the briars sting

to close the night
before the sun gets in