In a clearing

I can catch my breath

Among the sun-washed stones

Called to their side by a vacant heart

–

Never mind the beating sun

The June bugs and the wasps,

The streams of fire ants

Across a shared last name  

–

There is wholeness here

In these soulful hours,

For this I walk with care

Until the skies blush red

–

Long after

The wailing melodies have gone

And the church pews have emptied

Leaving legacies to resound