Dream Meeting

Concrete's cracked,

ravaged rough and dreary
by roots of birch, oak 
and loss.

Grief, that weathered sidekick,

tugs my leather wristband

with her strong and hungry fingers,

then turns back to look 

through bleary eyes

as we trudge and struggle 

along these ragged sidewalks.

Yet through the leaves above
we spy the silken moon;

she shines pure grace and mercy
upon our weary stumbling,

our scuffed and burnished boots.