debts

Gods like grandparents
Angry at me for not visiting

These apologies will need to be
Green and honest
Surrounded by their eyes
Or I will get no rest
Grounded by my lies

This will not be seclusion
An opening in earnest
To their reason
Washing away my delusion
It is a promise I am making

They told me where to go
In a waking dream
Loyally to follow this
On the path, to the hollow
Their wish I will then know

I’ll bring that old familiar
Little satchel
Upon the root I will sprinkle
Most likely crying
for days this will be ritual
And after

I will visit with
My grandparents