i no longer hate the dreams

that follow me home, a trailing glow

which hums their subterranean lullabies

-- a sweet ruse of lovely falsehoods;

ultimately, a knife through the bone.

i no longer mind it.

i built this place, i invited them

i've fed them the enduring embers of

some ancient wildfire 

so they'd come,

and tomorrow 

they'll come again --

to teach me and to tell, 

in the language of beauty and longing,

of memories, of the life

of one nameless human

building, in the forest,

another sun 

to replace 

the one he'd lost.