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the trees are keeping you alive
a scent and a memory
fueling a fire
that’s burning in the hills
throwing your name
upwards in violent sparks and gasps

like so many times
the grass reminds us of the
blue sighing thing that gave
us rain and sorrow

and I swear I still see your smile
with tears darkening your lips
tearing the airport in two

and I swear I still smell your skin
at the park
sweet with sweat and the
lingering scent of soap

and I swear I still hear your voice
whispering into and heating
the edges of my brain with your
head on my chest

what a room to return to
what a garden to grow in
your footprints in the soft earth
your hand on the door knob