Just You
I summered in your garden
before life happened
There, on the hill by the lake
There were no other gods yet
Just you
Your door, open
Love spilled out
across the grass
wetting roots
I did not drink deeply
there on the hill
Dark clouds gathered
for me
The voice of false gods
on the breeze
Outside the garden
a season of rain
Love’s compass fast
with rust
Empty circles turned
wearing grooves
And you waited for me
There, on the hill by the lake
The grass strong in your garden
Above your door
welcome home
by D. Tkon Copyright 2008
