the arrow curves up, up,
and even as I loose it from
my bow and feel my quiver
empty, I know much time will
ellide before it comes to ground
secure in its trajectory
the solid thud embeds its
wedged head in that rich loam
a marker for a place
my steps point towards

but space and distance
too much sky and cloud and land
obsure the view, obstruct antennae's sense
but I will recognise its slant
the axis of its fall
the marker on my turf
when I get there
to call that greening place

I will be 
afforested with days 
of pleasures in the sun
our dancing time together
hard won 
for us no longer one alone
but two, and whole, my twin
a place where we can 
plant our feet
spread our limbs
bear fruit in a kindly breeze
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