box of jars

ming holden
Ground Passage

The hush of stone 
An emblem of the passing-over.

The up with the wind, beholden.
						The curling of inward looking--
						Elected winter.
I left early and arrived late
To my own wake.

The half moon 
Of my cut palm 
Against archways.

My waking the 		up with the wind,
My waking
Them    up.