Cartwheeling windmills,
tumbleweed walls, and the
Spring you promised is here.

My cheekbones 
follow the sun like waking
winter flowers to rise through
the roof.

You are with me.

I don’t think you’ve ever really been happy with me.

He was right.  More right than
he ever imagined.  And for much
longer.  Two decades of five; 

half a rosary, begged in silent,
and not so silent, pain.  But this
half, these five, have flown like

mantras on malas; spun like prayers
on brass wheels, each turn bringing
me more and more and more 
to centre.

You are with me.

Happily burned into my skin, 
you lie beside me, walk with
me; the sound of your tears

treasured as much as your
joy.  For what you have
given, there can never be
thanks.  For what is to come,


You are with me.

Not even Caesar
could ask for more.

©  sdrogers 15 march 2013

Thank you for letting me know you were here.

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