left me here
the signs of age –
a road already worn
the ways of some
an ancient oak
retold
and I
for one
could never guess
the wisdom
you would carry
proof revealed
– some heaven
here
below

scattered ‘bout
these weary days
this plea
for something more
than e’er a page
a rhyme
could keep us fed
learned into
this passion
wherein your name
is kept
folded near
each page
upon my bed

sapphire tears
are hidden
by a questioning of light
of fear betrayed
with love
I couldn’t say
of where I’d be
when morning found
me watching
for a sign
when worlds beyond
our knowing –
fell away

. . .