On top
With bright eyes:
See the stars?
In deep behind the
Greyswept cloth of
Sky, still draped
Across the vault
Which draws you
In, into its folding
Arcs of arms.
Withdrawn
To stake these
Corners for your
Very own, my
Healing throne
No more suppresses
Than subsides the
Fear that creeps
Below.
Too fraught, not
Taught that life
Can make you
All alone, this
Subsidy of thought
Will do you
True, while
Hearing leaves
Return through trees
Sneaks love's
Lost grip to
Where you go,
Arriving well
Before the
Wind blows
Home.

rjw, 6/28/96


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