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The night doesn’t summarize the day.

The spark has its say over the fire.

Dearheart, why are you crying?

Already you’re in the air.

Quiet doesn’t summarize the song

which can’t go on for long,

song found inside us feral and hot.

Dearheart, why are you crying?

We’re sparks.

Walked into the burning woods and burning

walked into me. One day we’ll wade

into the sea and see. You’re coming

won’t summarize your leaving

nor waking sleep, sleep our dreams,

fireflies over wet grass, ice

settling in an abandoned glass. Winter

can’t summarize that summer, your body

in my hands won’t summarized be

by your body far from me.

Already you’re in the air

and my hands are nowhere,

my dreams mostly water.

This end won’t summarize our forever.

Some things can be fixed by fire,

some not. Dearheart, already we’re air.

from Fall HigherFind it in the library

Copyright © 2011 Dean Young
Used with the permission of The Permissions Company, Inc.
on behalf of Copper Canyon Press.

Published in Dean Young Poems

This program is supported in part by a grant from the Idaho Humanities Council, a State-based program of the National Endowment for the Humanities.

Any views, findings, conclusions, or recommendations expressed in this (publication, website, exhibit, etc.) do not necessarily represent those of the Idaho Humanities Council or the National Endowment for the Humanities.