Wipe
I pass my finger over
your tear wiping sorrow
from your sigh, hold on to
me and care for buttercups
wild crocuses and mustard
yellows, look at the expanse
of land, this is where a new
day will find us right by
hillsides where we’ll plant
our children, here we’ll
set their feet on a slope
so they can have the
longest view forever when
we meet again
