Together for short lives
bouncing ideas and sorrows
falling deep above the ground
stitching holes, touching creatures
listening to be led away we falter
sometimes we go missing and the
world plucks our lashes and tells
us to turn around, around to the
bitter, cold bittersweet, at the end
there are lamps and handles to hold,
dark night looming, but the wind isn't
blown, and the angels come,
it's almost enough to keep
us here, rainbows and lighting
and loving whispers we believe
in our hearts to have heard, a
god somewhere, and all these
pilgrims have found solid
ground after crossing a vast

ocean why, have the smiles
of their children turned around,
around to the bitter, cold bittersweet,
our loved ones are leaving us with
questions, and memories, we've become

fortuitous, we need another when the others
have left, beyond confined walls and societal
rituals, we're lost, grown children.