As in the first few
years since, in your sleep,
You slipped behind life's
farthest door.
Some memories no longer
make me weep.
Along my daily walk
I ordinarily find
Diversion in whatever
comes in view
And make up verse to
occupy my mind.
Yet there are times
I ache to share with you.
It happens most with
evanescent things:
The chin-dipped giggles
of two little girls,
A mockingbird somewhere
behind me sings,
A single autumn leaf
descends in whirls.
Then when these fleeting visions occupied me
I've longed to have you seeing them beside me.
