i want those stories about how memory is shaped thick in the midst of trees one has watched one's entire life.
i want to try to imagine that a house becomes a repository for the full range of memory. unbearable grief. joy. ambivalence.
that ambivalence gives way to.
that hope gives way to.
tell me enough stories that i start again to miss you.
to feel something stir like emotion.
tell me again that story you have about land.
steadied your land.