Untitled #8

That same
narrow white road through the forest
spreading trees, summer, and beyond the bend
a lake, water calm and deep
a lost
home, returned
in a dream that repeats
endlessly
what was left me
by my great-grandmother, my grandmother, the dowry
delivered to me by my mother
at the edge of the world
I will give
that photograph, barely visible, fading
those shadows
those waters
to you, child