Love's Last

Love's last urgency is earth and grief is all gravity and the long fall always back to earliest hours that exist nowhere but in one's brain. From the hard-packed pile of old-mown grass, from boredom, from pain, a boy's random slash unlocks a dark ardor of angry bees that link the trees and block his way home. I like to hold him holding me, mystery mastering fear, so young, standing unstung under what survives of sky. I learned too late how to live. Child, teach me how to die.