not today.  no maudlin tales of love lost,
no self-pity, no sorrow.  no swallowing clouds
and eyes full of rain.  no horizon broken
in the knees. only sunlight lifting from the shadows,
stones unmasked, bright strands of wind.
later, there will be a lopsided moon-smile
on the darkness, a smudge of evening star.

yes.  there will be memories.  fern seeds in your
pocket, making you invisible. your voice,
river rocks, night distilling moonlight.
dreams furthering into our veins. a  red room
that will never forget you. roots forever woven
into your name. unfinished poems--joy forever
on its way. tree and road bowing to one another.
whirled air on the sun-blessed hills.

above the southern ridge, a hawk has collected
the years, hunted the whereabouts of a name,
found it nowhere.  the river moves the incorruptible
exiled hero a breath nearer to bright water
and the spillway of horizons