To you I rejoice

to the Hemlocks
that are gone

I find that ghost of a Spring
where you and I once lived

Perhaps

you were really here
perhaps not, mellowed in

the mud and fire
I step out of myself

slide into focus
capturing this space

forgiving You

How I cherish
its southernmost edges

as day drops to what was
this side of the light

of the sharp hills and valleys

raising you

without you

close to Evening

so close