Scattered along the way are the leaves
That were once both canopy and visage-
And that now cover tender the path’s eves.
You must know that your touch will remember
Me back this way from the falling edge-
For we hold true to that moment; if one believes.
Recognizing is a touch that may not be forever
But it is who we are; alone and together.
Reaching into the water’s reflection to find – faint
Closing your mind in the dark to avoid – avowed
Remembering the days that have passed to touch - time
Wanting the truth to forgive the damned - deception
Seeking time to reconcile dour – doubt
Waking the darkness to loath - light
Climbing the summit to view – valley
Summoning poetry to write – wrong.
The southern winds cast their inexorable spell
As mother slowly strips away winter’s shell
Calling forth the greening snake
To pass across her bosom and loin; awake
Her soils’ burn; spurning a winter myth’s tell,
Lamenting how death is a final cold stake,
While April’s fool with dance and song dwell
Upon mother’s beauty that lovers can never take.
