into dust as we all must go

 

my heart 

full for that one

the one 

he is out of reach

my heart

aches

for the one

he is gone

he was compassion

he was ravenously curious

fascinated with other cultures

he is gone

Into Dust

....

...

..

.

..and I won't tell

In the autumnal forest,

Down the crooked lane,

Where reds blend through

orange and into yellow.

In the quietest place,

Where horses are free,

And no one can see.

That is where he waits.

With the softest gentle smile,

he moves in the shadows

of  ancient trees, and the horses,

they follow him.

And he waits there for his love.

....

...

..

.