Tamed boot-soles
traverse across forbidden ground.
scented handkerchief of my soul in hand
I try to translate the hints of distant mourners
that in the sawdust lingered

I beat my handkerchief,
Filled with questions and indecisions
against my legs
trousers rolled

I meant to understand you,
but faint woods make for
poor mouths

Lazarus lingered.
his lantern flickered,
shirt sleeves ragged
guiding the swell through sovereign valleys

As I stamp on the trail
You sing.
And I understand

I did not think
You wanted to carry a tune
across such a space

but now
I am treading
With a clear beat