When I come back
I want to be soft and tawny brown
with a soot black voice in scurrying
discourse with the earth.
I want the whole earth to myself;
my soft self, the flowers and bees,
the worms, the world a meadow.
I want no shattered joy from leavings.
No nevermores to break my heart.
I want to be at one. Me and the earth
and every living thing beneath mankind.
Just us. I want to be safe next time.
I want to be soft, unknowing, blind.