Flowers From My Beloved


the sky
blossoms
into night

The Garden’s Valentine

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each spot of red
a beloved’s kiss
such adoration bestowed

Outsiders

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leaves wander
outside the fence
of their beloved mountain

Goodbye My Dear Friend


He goes free of the earth.

The sun of his last day sets
clear in the sweetness of his liberty.

The earth recovers from his dying,
the hallow of his life remaining
in all his death leaves.

Radiances know him. Grown lighter
than breath, he is set free
in our remembering. Grown brighter
than vision, he goes dark
into the life of the hill
that holds his peace.

He’s hidden among all that is,
and cannot be lost.

Wendell Berry