At My First Murmur

why do you no longer

send songs / why don’t 

you set the quenched

candles to burning 

in the night / only for me

let the naiads with their 

dripping hair 

sink back into the stream 

let the turning sunflowers

and the dryads of the wood  

weep in your absence 

I want you to forget 

every acolyte / every altar 

every pleasure and torment 

and treasure / at my first 

murmur

I have set my hands

against the abdomen 

of the earth / I have wandered 

where the shoulders of the hills 

press up to the sky / I have caressed 

the flowers and the seed heads 

of the long grasses

and have you not trembled

when you felt me 

moving against you 

why do you no longer

send songs / why don’t 

you set the quenched

candles to burning 

in the night / only for me