we used to
live here.
the soft and
indigo evenings were
ours.

we were folded
in the
valleys and scars of
the red rock and
the land.

we climbed and
we ran – we
strolled and breathed
deeply with

rich minerals in
our water and
warm sun on our
shoulders.
we absorbed all
we could.

but there was
more and
there was
less than

the fine grains and
glittering flecks
that accumulate and
weather in memory.

those that
are transposed in
pen-strokes are
often incomplete.

we used to
live there. and
now we are two
by the sea.

and all that glows in
dusk behind us and
all that anticipates in
warm dark ahead
is ours!

ours for the making,
ours for the building, and
ours for the taking.