“This is the poem of goodbye
And this is the poem of don’t know.”
Think of me
when you see the evening star.
Think of me when you see the wren
the flowing root of the creek beneath him,
dark silver and cold
Remember me I am the one who told you
he sings for happiness.
I am the one who told you
that the grass is also alive and listening.
rise and fall
oh rise and fall
through the raging flowers of the snow