all the joy in this 
trembles on a precipice 
between these two aches: 
memories that will not come, 
and those that come unbidden

sell these words for scrap, 
give it all away for love. 
these habits we form 
fall away without meaning, 
empty, without connection. 

on the verge of dawn, 
value is as always was -- 
within and nearby, 
distant and unreachable, 
unfathomable, and lost 

image come back 
now, amid the brokenness, 
but the feeling hides -- 
for what we see with the mind 
is only known to the heart 

No one knows the heart. 
We see and judge, but poorly. 
Why do we do this? 
We want patterns to control: 
But the cycle carries us.

give us such silence 
as befits quiet angels 
 like those who watch us, 
wondering at our mistakes, 
glorying in our long love

Friends, and time well spent: 
It was in forgotten fall, 
We were more alive 
To both possibility 
And our few allotted breaths

How I see you now: 
In the brightest of colors --  
Not in gray, or dim, 
But in the light you most loved, 
And always modeled for us

When you walked this earth, 
It was much more like you ran -- 
Here, there, in and out: 
This world was all yours to form, 
As I would think the next is 

summer sleeps in peace -- 
a blanket on the far hill 
awaits the sunset -- 
waiting for me, too, this weight, 
this grief, growing and biding