Gather Me As you would divided stalks of grain, you may gather me that way, all my particulars. When I am slumped, care-creased, and very tired, then gather me. When I grieve, When I turn away most, baring by back, then gather me. Gather me when my legs are down And when my eyes are gray, When I lean away, gather me as you would some leaves on cool September mornings. Bring me to your breast when I refuse to speak, Bring me as you would some bloom, up to your lips, And gather me in spite of taciturnity and tears. by Barry Herem - my friend