For R. W.

Winter has come;
Snow has fallen
Making the downhill
Treacherous

We drink coffee
And smile,
Remembering warmer days
Past
That gave life purpose
And Meaning,
Hope and grace
That visited
And taught us
To give in kind.

The melancholy
Of this shortest day
Moves across your face,
Starting with the
Pale blue
Of your once-summer
Eyes.

You stare ahead,
Through me,
Into a future
That ends here
But proceeds there,
A Kingdom
Where you are a knight
Of hope and grace
And where winter
Never comes.