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leanback

turn
as I the pages
of a story
last you wrote
of home
and winding roads
to bring you here

truth
as I remember
were days a chord replaced
snow –
along the fences
left to clear

light
retains a memory
of breath along the way
wonder sits
as empty –
shadows
fall

trust
was I a moment
or more
than words can find
of choices
I am whispered –
I am all

. . .