a long time ago that was
not too long ago, my tears carved
riverbeds of sea water. my son was a
nomad in my dream's desert.
love was a song i memorized
in the seventh grade when the sun
wore a shawl as red as blood
and the forest wore anklets of moss
and dark humus.

a long time ago that was
not too long ago,
the fields bent their knees
like slumbering horses. i stepped out
from the patterned green sheets
and perfumed pillow
into the golden radiance of autumn.
in my eyes there were flying leaves
and fallen fruit as the sparse sky
flung a white shroud over me.

a long time ago that was
not too long ago, spring spread its traceries
through my veins. a trembling flower
bloomed in my heart like a star.
beneath me ran a river of living images
filled with tender questions.
my father's house was a nomad
wandering through my dream.
pages once open closed again
on sighs and muffled footsteps

that still reverberate through my life