Through the dew-drenched grass
Meeting where our paths crossed
At the foot of a grassy hill
If one ran late, the other
Left a stone message
On a mossy bridge.
He had muddy boots
A jumper torn by briars
And hair that went it's own way.
Trivial details to a mind
That raced among the clouds
And followed rabbits down brown burrows.
Gentle hands, twisted by a bad burning,
Reached out towards birds
And they perched on his fingers
At ease with one of thier own.
Blessed with a mind that ran free
From the fratilities of his body
He walked during his quiet life
Close to the gates of heaven.