Lawn

Lawn

I will find you on your lawn
and wait until you have finished
counting the friendships
of the trees and clouds

wait until you close your eyes
and take your whistle
your fingers finding their
home without instruction

I will listen to you play
the tune of Tamara
the tune of sanctuary
the tune of wondering

and the ruffle of the grass
will beckon me over
at the right time
just as you make the tune sad

and my wait diminishes
into steps I never saw myself walk
standing before your faraway spirit
I replace the whistle on your lips

with the most eloquent of my lips

and frozen by your own waiting
you shiver like the tops of trees
caught in the breeze of memory
new music flows from your lips

and the spell is broken
by the strange new spell
"whatever it might be,
world show me the truth"