You drift through tunnels
as I build my own buckeye tree
in the widening light.

You drift through tunnels—
they do not explode,
and still you fear the offing.

You drift through tunnels
as the forest bears witness to the wind
below an afternoon moon.

I build my own buckeye tree
long before you begin to fear
the offing below an afternoon moon.

Together, we begin to build more
buckeye trees—they do not explode. No,
the forest stands to bear witness

to the wind. In the widening light,
you and I know we will explode
below an afternoon moon.

The widening light captures all fear
in the offing as it coaxes the forest
to bear witness to our winding down.