FOR JAKIEYou dove straight under, no goodbye.The woods, too, turn. Your trillium Kindles the late bracken, gold. The loon restless, the wet wind cold, We give you up, a final scattering. You won’t come back like milkweed Or the greylag flying, flying. The lake is icebound at your burning. You are clean as fire And the light grows. Go: Be ash, be air, Be snow. First published as one of four poems in Nebraska Review Return to Index of Jeannette Barnes poems
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