Not on the last day
but half way through Holy Week
came the moment
for which I’d been waiting
such a long time. You were there
with the dog (which I hadn’t expected),
and we found ourselves just a little lost
in the midst of a beautiful forest.
There was a slight drizzle
falling through the firs overhead.
The sun was setting
in a sky we couldn’t see.
Dusk came and enveloped
the woods in a silent hush,
as if ash had been dropped
from the trees. The hound,
ever eager, now seems at once
ahead, between, and behind
both you and me amidst the fronds,
a light rain, and the earth underneath,
walking together on the winding path.
