Small Farm

Some day
I will move
to a small farm

and one night
having cut the wood
for the evenings fire

I will sit on the porch
with Orions sword
pointing at my home

with a cup of tea
held close
to help keep my fingers
from losing their feeling

with my dogs
curled up at my feet
I will think of you

perhaps with a tear
perhaps with a smile
but I will think of you

and as I sit
watching the snow
begin to fall
with the small spots of white
drifting out of the thickening mist
I will realize

at some point
along the way
I've forgiven you.

Poem, Matt Hansen, December 2006