for Kiersten

I sit in a dusty yard,
where volleyball nets fall,
I recall.
We would play.
Its hard,
so I stall.
Put them away.
Now comes Fall.
I wish you'd stay.


The lake bakes in the day.
Outside I ride the tide lower.
The waterline looks fine to this boat-rower.
Undertow-goer,
boasting coasts close to the ghosts made of clay,
till the tide takes them away,
I wish you'd stay.


I remember Decembers spent packing snow where we'd go.
Glued to an igloo,
snow-fort retorts,
snow-sport courts.
Your snow-ball fall
was always one report short.
So our empire would grow,
till the fire of noon,
tore the tops from our tunnels, all too soon.

I'd have that weather forever.
I'd see the sun outdone by snow floating overhead
if all my snow were but our snow instead.
I'd spend my midday settled in gray,
if only my lonely lawn be
stirred by the feet of tireless she,
who turned to trod away.
So long for now.
I wish you'd stay.