there
is a garden

where
fifteen rocks rest

in perfect swirls
of white pebbles

there
is a garden

where
fifteen rocks rest

and this
is what

they say

there are moments
when the rain bells

and pebbles
against the window

when the moon lifts
like the ocean’s only coin

we move
roomtoroom boxtobox

we move
dusttodust

should any heaven hold
both sea and sky

my mother
shall have one

my father
the other

a family gathers
at the foot

of the grave
in the shade

of a small tree
the gravedigger rests

upon his shovel
fires burn

by the roadside
and smoke hangs

like a halo
from the schoolyard

the children sing
salvation

salvation
one day

there will be
salvation

the river knows
as does the grey

of the rain
the dark windows

of the church know
and the confetti

of leaves wet
upon the cobblestones

he isgone

to ng ue ti pp ed      
                               in to the            
                                              in fi ni te

heis gone

the leaves tried
to tell me

but i confused
their colors

the water tried
to warn me

but i misunderstood
the words

the geese tried
to guide me

but i complained
of not having wings

and soon
i found myself

alone

the church bells
sound the hour

but it is the leaves
we turn to

for time
watch closely

at the ghosts
and bones

of autumn
the final breaths

heavy with yellow
and red

we release
like all colors called

and collected
we release