I am leaving on the green winds.

Come with me (if you can).

We are fulcrums upon which

Are balanced the future and the past.

We are the fulcrums, the arbiters,

The judgment of the tides.

Take my hand you beautiful you.

Know that I am the greenest grass,

That this is the kiss for all places.

Witness the lump in my throat,

The creaking of old elms in the spring,

Stale coffee breath on a windswept morning.

I am leaving on the green winds.

jcb