A car passes in the half-light,
that's all it takes, the sound of it,
and you are there with me,
your heat and your motion,
with me as the money runs out
and the house falls to ruin,
with me as the yard grows up
with raspberry and ash
and the path to the spring disappears,
with me as elderberry blocks the barn door
and the fields clog with trees.
A dream of desolation
is a dream of forever.
