when the fields
have been neglected
the rain
may never come
to spare the soul
from grieving –
the heart from getting on
when the light
is nearly faded
without a promised
one more time
when the name I keep
upon my lips
is dried before the sun
the ground made cold
to wait
I will wait
beyond the place
where touch becomes a memory
of where we were
how we loved
I will wait
beyond the final fade
another this to know –
I will wait

. . .