Flattened, when the moment came.
You hurtled through the sky,
Like a fragile meteorite
Falling, falling, and landing:
Did you burn so brightly
Because you knew?
Because you felt the wind,
As it rushed against your face?
Or did you mean for it to last,
Better than memory,
Longer than eighteen years:
Boy to man to old age.
Our eyes see what they will,
Blurred though they are by tears,
And your answers do not satisfy:
Half-remembered lips that whisper,
"Ashes to ashes, dust to dust,"
Will never speak of love without suffering,
And we wonder, empty-handed, empty-hearted,