come away

of other lives
I can’t recall
the season come to death
of lips that whispered lowly;
come away

of verse and chapter quoted
to books I failed to read
though searching
brought me back
and I obeyed …

a summons to collection
pulling at the past
returning now an end
before beginning
as of chaff

before the wheat
the blossom
without soil
toil within each word
becoming more of me

a story to be written
undaunted by regrets
what came away
the darkness speaking
a whisper raised in breath