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somewhere beneath the sighs

of drooping willows plays

& in the eves of autumn

- i remember your smell;

-

such was the beauty of one,

with the sweet

juice of their fruit sliding from

thy's lush mouth -

slowly descended as you blessed

yourself in the name

of the Father and the Son before we've wept;

-

& somewhere beneath the hymns

of his crosses, we raise our hands and drink

his promise of life - this your reward.

-

breath into -

the old memories of spring rains, working in the fields

running in the tall grasses, counting stars on the roof of the shed

& still remember their more to life -yet

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author's note: i do not know what i've won in this contest yet, but we shall see.