Thursday Poem - Assurance

You will never be alone, you hear so deep
a sound when autumn comes. Yellow
pulls across the hills and thrums,
or the silence after lightening before it says
its names—and then the clouds'

wide-mouthed apologies. You were aimed

from birth: you will never be alone. Rain

will come, a gutter filled, an Amazon,

long aisles—you never heard so deep a sound,

moss on rock, and years. You turn your head—

that’s what the silence meant: you’re not

alone. The whole wide world pours down.

William Stafford, (from The Way It Is)

For my little brother, James (Jamie) Brendan Franklin, (March 10, 1960 - August 22, 2023). Journey onward knowing you were (are, and always will be) remembered, treasured and much loved. I carry you in my heart.