But, Please, Not Too Soon…

for K

One day: there will be another
rebounding forest flared by fireweed
& yellow wood sorrel, the light burden of
their edible blooms outliving us.

There will be wind sometimes
entangling the acoustic leaves
& sweeping away the largeness of a quiet
for which we were never responsible.

No need to recover. No need to tend
those grounds for survivors who may stumble
into a healing forest as if the wilderness
of their own grief, the edge of their breathing

softened some by the sighs inside
any singing we will have left behind.