when you are broken
i will remind you
of sixty four colors
the ranges
of blue
and something we spoke of
long past the leaving
way past the morning
when silence bled through
when you fell
through these fingers
ran through my arms
on the way
getting back
forever we were
get me to somewhere
a roadside cathedral
tall as the pines
planted that day
remember
how nothing else mattered
but this –
an ancient blue crayon
we’d given away
. . .







