The shadow of the tree turns upon the stone,
Measuring my day for me.
It’s all about time when you are here for
An elusive resurrection.
The day wanes,
The wind lifting unnoticed feathers
Tousling hair, and
Sending the campfire into my eyes.
In the forest,
A trembling of delicate tendrils.
The branches rise and fall in a vast
Respiration, leaves billowing.
All of my waiting is
Pulled away from me as I tilt my head
Taking it in, evening out, softening
To that sighing,
R. Leigh Krafft