In The Ashes of Evening (Blooded earth)

I remember when you left,
In the ashes of evening
I gathered handfulls
Of red earth, of dust
The color of your skin.
I wrote sonnets in scars
On the root bark of trees,
Letting the sap creep
Out and the amber of
Twilight seep deep within.
And, now, for years I
sat and watched my words
Grow worn, covered over
By the march of years
By thicket and thorn.
And now dawn has broken
With thin rays over the curve,
I know that stains which make
Their way into wounds are not
The same as those in roots -
My skin is still your skin
And my hands the red
Of blooded earth.