Stephanie

I still remember Stephanie,
The music of her hands —
The lyric autumn reverie,
The eyes apart from coterie,
That far horizons scanned

In Stephanie, the day stood still.
The seasons passed beyond her will,
And life was brief, but sweet —
The short years she was here with us:
One up- and one downbeat

Then Stephanie, my sober friend –
She let go of the fragile cord
That kept her holy essence penned,
And found her Springtime, in the end.
Her loving life restored —
Her aching spirit
Soared

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