soft as the sound
of secrets unsettled
pushed through the needles
(much thicker than most)
and sank as the road
turning from asphalt –
to gravel – to dust
into green

bent down by waiting
and pressed to the edges
memory swept to the river
like change from the bar
(ash from the smoker)
remnants of habit
circles made scarce

as light switched to flame
in passing my window –
and sat I too long
in the afternoon sun
still in this grace
of missing confessions
a warmth as familiar
as swords through the pines
held to the corners
another night’s quilt

planets take shape
in the wish of forever
was given us paths
uintended to show
of touching (so tender)
the light hardly noticed
were stories retracing
the lines of my soul

a pardon of needles
ten thousand much more
than the one of before
when we laid here the night –
forgotten to maps
our returning

as light streams
the forest with colors
to secret –
and rivers run closer
to home

…