Quietly, my sweet to lay you down
upon prairies of unclear patterns
tattered stitching held undone
and fabric that folds in shades;
torn at the knees from the run.
The golden light of moments lost
still shutter upon the eyes
where fingers used to clear the cry
and breath of my full kisses;
now lingering only this tender sigh.
Remember all the love and laughter
at the onset of our flame
when rain itself was folly
two souls in wild untame,
and now the waters a shore of tears
that fill up many buckets
where the valley has all but dried up
and silence has killed the ruckus.