Some years

Are for the breakdown

The letting go and letting in

The creaking sounds of winter beneath your soles once again…

This home

I built from the ashes,

the lemon tree now blistering with fruit,

waiting for spring’s warmth to come fully alive…

Put on the blindfold so you can see

the answers to questions that vanished.

Home free at last in nothingness,

the everything for which you’ve managed…