Late afternoon sun on
The jade sparkling stream
I hear your voice in the riffles, soft currents
Soothing whispers, tender murmurs
And joyful sighs
My own voice trembles to answer
To sing you a song
To speak you a poem
Of deep running love and
The deep grief I bear,
Of devotion never dying
Solid like the mountain, like bedrock
But with words like the clouds
Of yesterday
Here then gone
Like you, my angel
My truest love.

Dawn on the river brings
A soft rain, gauzy fog
Geese barking on the sandbar
Wet madrone, color of tobacco
Songbirds muted by mist.

I come from strange dreams
To you, your picture by my bed
Altar of petals, mala, candle
Swath of beautiful fabric gifted
By a loving friend, to honor
Your spirit, your smile the brightest of
Anything in this unfamiliar room
Here by this river with
Its stained-glassy glimmer
Grey clouds and oak leaves weeping.

Distance
 
I know the rain is sad
I know squirrels are thriving
I know birds have their priorities
The clouds eat many days
 
I spill hot liquids all the time
Forget where I have placed crucial items
I eat little and only that which requires
Minimal preparation
I rarely comb my hair
I sleep in fits and starts and
What sleep may come is
Never restful
It takes twice as long as it used to
To read a page or poem
And half the time to forget it
 
All the people are anxious
Pretending so hard they are not
There is bright-colored tape that
Won’t let children swing
Pets are living like kings and queens
Trails through sacred woods go untrodden and
The ripe streams, the dark trees, cheer brightly
 

Evenfall
To Nikki
 
Not in a hospital bed of bleak sheets
The dim room before your death,
I see you walking now
On a beach of stars
The light in your eyes, the
Azure dance of rare butterflies.
 
Your smile feeds the hummingbirds
Moves this poet’s tearful pen
Across dreamed parchment and daisies
Bouquets of honeyed rhyme
Tangerine song chanted
Between times and beyond
My world of evenfall
Your world of approaching dawn.
 
 
 
 

Evening Comes in a Hurry
To Nikki
 
Evening comes in a hurry
Or not at all as
I ache for dawn
No dreams
No awakening
Black orchards of sleep
 
Instead of making copies of
Your death certificate
I would rather be riding a gentle horse
Through the waning yellow day
With you
With you
Smiling flowers
Breathing stars of eyes shining
Your grace in the ether
Your place in the other unknown
 
You left a hole no ocean
Or green mountains can fill
 
Yet you bring me rose stones and pink shells
Gathered between
Floods of tears
Sweet slices of orange
I am told I must be kind
To myself
As my grief devours the sun.