for H.D.

I cling to you
my golden ring etched
with the ancient poem

Twisting you on
I become invisible
as a breath, a gasp

Let me be
your precious you said
as I lay down

Your lap my bower
your lips my journey
away from green pastures

Years later I twist
turn the golden ring
in my palm

Unable to throw you
in the fire
on the mount

Unable to put you
back on
my old comfort

My precious
your precious
no more