recall regret, recall the thing you should have, remember the name you privately compounded with love, but never carried past a whisper. if you held the hand of all beauty, and grew humble before the grace of mountains, would you bury that tired cynic? recall another you painted with your preconceptions, and left their face to mold in heavy sun, is it lost to you now? an honest word is a panacea, a sharing heart a freedom, in these words you find your care, like a quilt wraps the wind from a clothesline, stitched by the hands of the mother, where the children play in autumn grain, as the day grows tired in its own joy, the air crisp with sugar and apples. there is more to know than your own, and life makes no masters, why glow in not but another’s eyes, and see that the way forward, is impossible to take alone.