from Spring Psalter

Darling, I leave you the forever unblooming twig half-sunk in spring mud & the Nature that allows such delicate & lasting atrocity. Darling, darling, darling: my voice is a branch that would reach. I leave you the ragged sky, once full of cloud & now not. I leave you these things just as I leave you: graceful passage from one something to the next. Darling, even in this my voice dissipates into hush & whiffs of light, sun-thrown, hurtle into the ground.