YOU TURNED UP MISSING

You waylaid the galaxies
with the slip of your hand
sewing light years together with
silken word-threads
(borrowed spider webs)
you walked without spoor
without disturbing the grass
in the lull
in between our storms.
You used sagebrush and raven feathers
in your timeless prayers,
a broken clay pot at your feet, humble-proud
oh I loved your mind I loved your way.

You said, 'I don't trust anyone don't clip me
don't fall in the cracks wait for me
on solid ground
I'll meet you on the wing.'
I believed anything
was possible in your light.
You sang me silvery
in your half-delivered song.

You painted kaleidoscope pictures
(with the broken toys left you)
on the waiting night-canvas
beseeching me, making sense of nothing
that counted;
but you counted nothing
by numbers, -by standards, -by comme il faut
You counted by the birdless sky
and the wayward stars the
drifting leaves and desperate gaps
you spoke your life by.
You listened to the space
in between the beats
unable to heed the signals
I knew feebly how to give.
You canceled our class in the middle.

I said,
'Establish the boundary, my Love.'
You said,
'Trade ME for something of value.'

Tears are made by every twist of the heart.
But priceless were your offerings
now more remote than the cold fingers of space.