Her meanderings; light spun lantern
dusk to the tug, sleeved of loving against
chill clouds dressed in grey groundwater
of paper rain.
Her words spill to the falling; strung of shadow,
finely thread to pages of his memory: Unravellings.
Leaves; of pen uncurl in gentle descending, filling
the mind with orchards of her blossoming.
Refrain; like tall grass to the lilt of threshing seasons,
lean the thaw of cold rooms to wrapped
eloquence of her evening eyes;
the vernacular book of his purpose.
March 14th, 2011