Sometimes,
not often enough,
I connect with all the good Ones
who grow so much in me

And
when we re-member these times
lost in right now space,
We gather no grand finale harvest

But remain so very grateful
for whom We have been
and where We have gone
and when We might romp once again
before this time’s curious end.

Bending just, and unjustly, around
life’s next grateful
fateful
corner,

Zero summing all these great Ones
who grow so much in graceful We.