I can’t go to where you are.
There are no roads.
Though I had wanted to establish some
I didn’t know what kind of bridge
to build over the silence
that became a gulch
(The more I tried, the more
the crumbly land gave in)
And now, I have no toehold
on the other side
I can only be glad
that there are others with you
And that they can help
And I can only work
on the general greening
which has begun
and will continue
Until someday
Our whole shared landscape is restored
And I’ll cross over.
©Wendy Mulhern
April 22, 2013
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