i'm living in the forest now
past where the river flows into the lake
over Precambrian rock and purple thistle
down an unbeaten path through the shimmering poplar leaves
that turn the brightest yellow
just before the coming of snow
i'm living in the shadows now
dressed in rags and straw
while hanging from a wooden cross
to chase away the blue-black crows
who spy me slipping away from life
away from where i no longer find myself whole
i'm living away from tenderness now
embattled by some constant sorrow
that sketches your face in the flames of firelight
and through the cracks of each dark hour
i know i am slowly disappearing from time
but nothing here cares enough to hold me back
i'm living a tumbledown existence now
stealing solace from fragile memories
of the days when we were we
the hopeful hours before you let life go
and if i dream of you under the blanket of starry sleep
i do not remember dreaming when i wake
i'm living for just myself now
a half of what i was before
but somehow i still hear your voice softly singing
in the wind that ripples through the shimmering poplar leaves
that turn the brightest yellow
just before the coming of snow
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