lost
without
sea soul set
think hope peace float
one being love being one
peace feel hope fly
sun soul sky
within
lost
What ghosts follow when you track
back so far? Stone foundations,
full of your words, crumble and roll,
and the pine pieces, marked by knots
of pain and despair, age away in
forgetfulness. Is this a blessing,
when the holes appear, let light and cold
pass, allow locked in grievances to leave?
Or does it all remain anyway, underneath
the rusted metal roof – the hurts
that can’t be released, circling around
the structure as time takes it down?
There’s still a place to let it go –
two squares and a circle.
I walked two miles with my eyes closed,
while autumn’s colors crunched beneath my steps.
Now and again I stumbled, but righted myself,
and continued on my way. The sparrows
listened to my miles and asked, “Why?” and when
I did not answer or open my eyes, again, “Why?”
The path knew my steps well and did not change.
November sheds a gracious scent, knowing
he’s an older gentleman, and I breathed in, and took
his hand, walked on until the circle’s end. And there
I opened up my eyes again. Daylight had fled,
leaving me there to greet the night, with gracious November,
my friend.