| Upon Final Departure 1. Back Pasture We journey Through miles of dandelions, scotch broom In full bloom Our steps are quick and light, the ground sacred and secular, holy by definition � this piece of ground, earth and stuff, this is ours, this is us. I do not know if a man can own any of the earth. I am learning that the earth can own something of a man. 2. Maple Tree We swing, breakneck without fear, We climb with our eyes closed. Reach for treenub and branch, Laughing. Amongst vibrant leaves, we are lost in color, finally found in this giant. Heartbeat slows, or speeds, to match the rhythm found here. Long left but never fully forgotten, Like a womb of land. 3. The Woods Into the darkness we tremble-step, voices hushed. Things live here we know not. Dreams, and ghosts, and what else. Here we are not we, we are whatever we choose, or is chosen for us. A maternal voice calls us out, and we return to the light. A collection of inanimate objects. Keepers of my secrets, storage space for my youth. A place of definition; six acres, a chicken coop, and my childhood. Farewell, dear friends. |