You live in excess motion,
like the wind that blusters
to hide the silence
in the mountains that you love.

It is hard, watching you,
as you darken and crack in the desert,
you who love the rain and the stream.

Tending to the plants and flowers
that you never really liked, missing
the coolness of pine and the strength of oak
and the slippery shadows

beneath the boulders. Will you go to them-
one with the boulders and the ocean of trees,
the wind that carries you back? You, lost
away from me, and finally home?

Written in 2008 as an exercise for my poetry class. The format is from a poet named Abby Gambrel. The words and sentiment are all mine.