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when I was ten
the stars were my friends
and grapevine grew wild
to pass me between –
places of longing
and wonders unseen
by the eyes
of surrender –
a ways
down the road

the dreamer I was –
left out the door
without thought for goodbye
or reminders
of home
I’d come needing

to find –
paths cleared away
by the wind

was destiny
left in a note by the gate
or carved to a tangle
of wood –
how quiet the house
a lone empty bed –
and chill burned away
by a wanting
left go

might they wonder
how far
I’d been taken away –
or wait me a season of still
unnoticed retreat
to a life just begun –
my wing’ed old soul
forgetting again
to wander the way back
to less

. . .