Sandstone Zach Winters

Sandstone and burnout
Time takes everything
Paths overgrowing
From autumn to spring

And the things I remember
The things I forget
Like the shape of your body
When we laid down to rest

Soft-sodden wilds
Retracing our steps
The house and the heather
Where the birds make their nest

And the things I have hidden
And covered with stones
The warmth of your eyes and
The length of your bones

I’ll give you all that I have
Oh all that I have