Too far away to touch, grasp, hold or help

But close enough that it hurt 

I think of you every day

and so does she

and she

and he

Clothes lines

and ships

and rain

all bring your image to memory

for no reason at all

so many verses i wish i had spoken

so many hearts you have broken

but yours was the only that mattered 

the last time we met

your face was not the same

somber and calm

bereft of sadness 

the day was soft and sunny

harsh and cold 

and hollow

of you

thousands of fingers intertwined

for you

tears wept into one





for you 

for the earth to hold in its soft, dirty belly

for all time 

I hope the worms are friendly

and that roots create a cushion 

for your gently resting head

Published by Alison Howe