Return
ii.

The gift I meant to send

to you,
I opened.

Because you
are never coming back.

Even now
you are slipping through
the shadows. Like

a thousand
hexagons, you turn
divide and turn,
divide and
turn.

Remember
the harvest honeycombs?

…the end-of-Summer sweet?

You are never
coming back.

The gift I meant to send.

I opened.

Summer
ii.

No words for
Summer heat, no reason
to believe we
will not
find
reincarnation—

Let fingers
trace the way. Let
fingers weigh

The trace
of everything
left
to hold

come Winter.