An unfathomable ocean of atoms separated
His gaze from the nearest glowing peak
At sunset. What chance had he to sway that sea?
He remained very much the study of a man
Who’d left the world of getting and spending
But never fully joined the forest of fairy tales.
The music of the north, the forever north,
Visited him. “Our lady of the holy death, come
For me, comfort me, provide for my survivors
And sole descendant. There are cedars
And their cousins in the canyons that belong
To no one. I mean to become an end among them.
Watch over my bones and bring them home.
I surrender them in the hope of fortune
For the soul that was more than me, other
Than me, the souls of those surviving me.”
He thought, in the lamplit moonlight, I’m not
Praying rightly. The forest remains too thin.
I want the cedars giant, young, and closing in,
On the coppery canyon walls another sunset.
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