letting go

tip tiptoe on the folding ledge
sound would be sacrilege
on this picture painting
moonlit night
let summer shed its wingskin
hum the song of belonging
to every pore and fissure
of this beautiful planet
resist hammering epitaphs
along each tempting milestone
let season take its centuries
to heal, this bright night
was made for moments
taken together, one more time
before they are taken apart
on buried bones