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small and still

how is it
words were come
when there was nothing
left to say
names already written
to my heart

fade to light
so easily –
pull me from my dreams
dared to sleep
remember me
this way

touch
not soon forgotten
graces understood
miles to go –
and still
I wander on

driven by a madness
settled as a saint –
counting
out my blessings
every one

take of mine
my moments –
as want for any less
change is sure
tho I shall
linger here

eased against
forever –
weighted by a sigh
held by something
greater still
than I

. . .