who am I
this choice to be
and ageless as a fable
fastened to another page
pretending then to know
the time was sure
but never less
than sheets of corded linen
and where would I be led
but shangri-la

would e’er they read
this testament
and wonder what I knew
to where I’ve gone
when all is secret here
as roads are traced
from east to west ~
buzz from south to home
tho still there will be those
who understand

to wait another moment
will watch the sky for signs
and trust the waves
to sail the northern lights
I wonder will they notice
a subtle change in breeze ~
when the moon is almost gone
and cedar sings