sworn to none
the letting go
some piece of seventeen
forty more and there
the coming back
to catch us up
with sweet surprise
familiar as our own

– as all I know
of places that I don’t

feather covers
tiny blooms
and all I ask – another
sunrise come
and I within the toast
of one more willing
bring me back
voices I remember
becoming this –
a song
beneath my bones

ancient glow
of amber fits
settled on the porch
close enough to mars
and he – my sin
forgiven when the morning
spreads our truth
around

wrapped unto
and warmed against
my fall

miles
and still unknown
the ways
october passed
melting into now
snow on skin –

as somewhere
I have noticed
comes without invite –
crossing into dreams
of seventeen

. . .