and left
only silence.
Time and memory
of our time
fill this room.
Through dreams
I search
your face
outlined
in my mind
my fingertips
tracing your
forehead.
A voice on
the telephone
your deep voice.
No one sounds like you
saying you love me
Flowers for the Dead
This is the way
I see your face.
O you are dead
your face frozen
and moist.
I love you and search
for you everywhere as
light dims to darkness
and darkness brightens
to light.
We once arranged our
days in that small
vase of time given us.
I see your face
reflected there now
in a vase full of
flowers for the dead,
reeds of tears.
O your face facing
me.
Tears flowering from me
until my vase of time
spills over and we meet
in that season called
eternity.
