12.7.22

In Memory of February 5, 2016

You couldn’t stay:
It’s not in the nature of airy things.


You felt too light on my hip

Like downy dandelion seeds

That blow away in a puff of breath.

Like dry leaves scattering

On a breeze from nowhere.


I cannot see who blows the breath.

I cannot see whence comes the wind.

I can only feel

The soft weight of your lightening body

As it comes to a rest on my foot.

No comments:

Post a Comment