The doves are flying now, they make their winds
In every direction: hover and sail to their foreign flock.
Forget me not, plucked up the courtesy to show
You round these new haunts. Plain as a daffodil,
As probable as daylight. But the mist is lifted -
Stay with me now. Don’t let me go, but don’t
Hang around. Too soon but forgotten not. Forget
The others, they sailed the sea but found the sand.
It grazed my skin and opened my eyes. Nothing
Is clear now. Waxen wings do set their form like
Feathered tales. Forget me not for I am here;
Always will have been. Should be? Be not afraid
Of distance, for some have it grown upon them.
Sewn inside like seeds, the day they sprout will be
Goodbyes, for now. We hope, but forgotten not.