dusk unties the laces of my shoes
with every step I tug you by the wrist
down the trail to the last light meadow
where for your birthday I want to show you
the trampled, tawny grass of the spot
where last night a deer slept
at the brook we stop and I take my pill
(even in dreams I take it on time)
with a mouthful of mossy water
then with wet feet we go on