Mercedes Benz

My dear girl Boo
I think of you
as days are ticking loud,
hours barely, trees are lace
the clouds weave smoky grey
with blue. I must embrace
my memory, gather apples,
breathe, give thanks for

You are with the orange
leaf, the cardinal, a clutch
of feathers, beads, every bit
bred in the land a bravery
of solitude and gratitude,
a tender helping hand.

Your stories live among the words.
The woods are singing, birds are
never quiet. Even in the breaking
light of dawn their song goes on.