I’ll take you with me
as I pull it all apart
and begin again.

Awake to the day —
every concern disappeared
on our forest path.

We were a close pair,
every forest was ours,
watching the light rise.

We combed through the woods,
wildflowers, moss, and lichen —
all the tender life.

They must be starting —
your lily of the valley
on our forest path.

I’ve had to rebuild
to keep getting up each day,
to still see beauty.

With all tender life,
our days of soft communion —
now comes good sailing.

for Mack (and Thoreau)

The sudden greening
this spring happens without you —
where you walked and ran.

Under the tall wild carrot
you found the understory’s
free, green galaxy.

There’s grief in those trees —
without you, my mind is there,
sinking into them.

The ecstatic sun,
we sniffed, basked, lolled, ran, and walked —
we leaned towards it.

The endless beauty —
we found it every day,
paths led in and out.

You’ve been gone four months,
I still see you out ahead
looking back at me.

Spring comes without you,
all of our ponds will crack, thaw,
I see you there, here.

The hope doesn’t go —
thinking of my life with you,
in these cold, hard days.

These woods, full of birds,
we walked through in ice, mud, rain,
songs filling our ears.

The beavers still work
on these trees by the river —
I think of us here.

Spring winds have begun,
I keep a forest for you
of fresh bloomed lichen.

Dog with shining eyes,
smiles knowing that I love him,
he blooms with the field.

Cold fall afternoons,
ecstatic spring green mornings —
none of it was small.