7.
This time, you travel alone–
slowly the leaves drop
his hands—rough—against
the—impossible—silence
Names, faces, how to use a fork
they vanish
no words to describe
cardinals in trees,
water slapping sand
wood discolored from rain
neighbors talk through gaps
the blurring vision
wrap tight the bundle
held against shoulders, walking
8.
Seeming heavier with each step
the mud sticks to boots–
orange clay, orange coat–
his hat hangs on the rack
Yesterday whispers
whimpers against progress
standing still, your steadiness
long—-long-ing—slow
trees trace jagged sky
a tree—house
She called herself—–
small voice–squealing
behind slatted doors–
creeping light across horizon
9.
You leave a stone to mark each step
songs filter
fog fills————–you cut
this—not wanting—to live
shadows accumulate against
moments anger overwhelmed
coral lipstick, pearl earrings
names tangle————slip
hands on wheel,
cracking boards
breath falls sideways
a slow quiver against
hard edges of solitude
distance between here and ——–
Sanctuary Healing Gardens 