fieldJournal_.04

would you then

in the moments

that fade,

ephemeral waves

refusing to be pinned down

or be clasped to the shore--

would you remember?

would you let them--

the memories

the moments which

remain tempered--

temperate because we

make.them.so

thoughtfully

cautiously?

I stand because I am

held up by those in the soil

who came before me.

I will not ask you

your name.

I will not

stray too far from the

unbeaten path,

or rest anywhere else

but in heath and bramble.

I will not take your name with me,

but might I ask for a moment?

with you willows, you carrows

you fellows in the yellow cars--

they turn around and say to me:

“Where are we off to? I could take you to the moon and stars

...

if you’d like?”

Sail off like kites

with no heading,

no bearing

no compass that point truly,

that we might wander

through a welcome,

warm threshold,

and not the places we find ourselves weary.

If no one remembers me I will still

rest in the earthen ground,

the common flowers over my silent head,

but let this world I live in now still speak,

for there is so much left to be said

things left to the billows of a

time that leaves little trace.

I can help us remember,

because if we don’t

this will all be erased.