I found a line of a poem
lying beneath a pin oak
a kernel smaller than an acorn
larger than a hummingbird’s eye 
Something so small and so large
I could stretch it over the moon’s face                                                   
let it shine for a little while before
falling
       from clumsy fingers
             falling
                   between leaves of grass 
                              falling
deep beneath hairy white roots
where earthworms feast 
tickling the bones of my long-lost pup 
buried the year after I lost you
lost like my grandmother’s wedding band
 I wore planting roses
lost like a thought upon rising 
lost for words of a song you always hummed