Hope ripples
below the river banks...

How to unload weight
from a heavy heart...

A grove of your name
had carpeted my way...

It consumes everyone's laughter,
even the melodies of joyous music...

I won't ask why the land woke up barren
after a season of suns...

Not in the towns of the sun
where people chatter and constellate...

The hills were steep,
do not push your fragile ankles up there...

I grieve
over the map that you lost...

I find you in storms I fight to weather
in traps of poetry I uncover...

The torch I hold
for us to see the lost route outside...

Hands that knocked at your gate
were not the same hands after...

Winds hardly pass
through the gaps of the window...