where the light is

and the wind
and the people who look 
like me. the Lord
whispers forgiveness 
in every wave and I let
the mercy wash away
each grain of sand
like regret.
it was only a summer ago
but it’s always summer 
on the island. in the humid
winds of home I feel it
the same moonlight
island sun and Kentucky hills.
grief made me believe 
in Creation. i now know
what it means to think
of someone every day.
i want to go to this place
where my name is written 
in cracked cobblestones
and flooding rains. 
i want to ask whatever rests
in these mountains

Does it ever get better?