Outside, the sky woke, and poured libations
to the thirsty dead below the black earth
and the trees walked in stately procession
waving red flags against the grey sky.
Inside, we gently lay the coins of our love out
the heart's payment for life, our life-
and pull, wincing, on the cords of blood
that weave us back, back to the beginning of all things.
With this, the Summer unravels,
and the dark stitches the days together again
in shortening loops. Now is the time to go within;
in the space between here, and there.
We are those that came before.
Our cells breathe in the silence;
listen to the slow oar-strokes of our hearts' ferry,
Come to beach on the shores of memory.
