It is
only
when
I
and
me
turn
to
us
and
we
It is
not
about
what is
said
It is
about
what
is
heard
He
he was a
fawn
and
I
I was a
poet
a
lifetime
ago
straining
to stand
he
he
cantilevered
and
I
I
was an
oak
in a deep
green
forest
he
preened
rubbing
his
pelt
against
my
bark
now
a lifetime
past
he
he
continues
to
roam in
deep
forests
and
I
I
am
moored
alone
on
prarie
Her
voice
came from
afar
a distant
echo
nicknaming
me
as we
were when
young
forty-two
years
gone
this echo
came
from a
distant
planet
through years
of debris
lifetimes
separate
us
she
tucked away
like a
cameo
and I
an
adventure
book
you are
someone
she said
and
she
she was
the
dream
Love
comes
as the
wind
silent
and
moving
it
comes
as the
wildfire
burning
and
consuming
it
comes
as the
stars
twinkling
and
calm
it
comes
as the
sleepy
naps
it
comes
as the
small
giggles
of
tickles
it
comes
as the
sunrise
fresh
and
bright
it
comes
as the
halo
of
your
hair
burgundy
and cherry
it
comes
as the
moon
full
and
round
and
curious
love
comes
as the
tide
washing
ashore
and
retreating
love
comes
