To be found
Laying
Beneath the hovering sheath of smoke
To clamp your wet lashes
Together
As the dust lands on your lids
To follow the sillage to the light at the end
Of the road
To be carried down the winded path
Sheltered from the thick
Ferns
begging
To lift your chin
To wrap their jagged
Fingers
Around your neck
To hear the hollow laugh
Echo in the darkness
Of the rose amidst the thorns
As the wind brushes your cheek
he scurries past
Bearing you
In his arms
And as he sets you down
Gently
The earth beneath bare feet
you understand
when he reaches for your hand
for his, too
is leathered
all the same
leathered
and trembling from the the strain
Of years of letting go

mp