diana lynn

Hold my Hand


When we first arrived, 

you and I,

we’d sit on this deck 

and watch the day 

disappear behind Brush Mountain

            right over there

            that way… 


Now we watch the wind

in dark cedar branches 

pines and madrones 

oaks and firs

            tall trees all grown

            the horizon.

            like the children,

           is long gone,


Five decades leaves us 

one way out of here  





So when the time comes,

we’ll shake off our boots 

and rise like glowing dust 

            on shafts of light 

until we once again can see 

Brush Mountain. 


The horizon will still be there

waiting for us 

and it will arch its back 

            long enough 

            to squeeze ourselves small

            crawl under its skirts 

            and burst into a world 

            past the farthest footprints

where all words 


a natural death.

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