i filled my notebooks with your words,
my canvases with your spirit

you're in my soul, my heart, my being
you eternally inspire me.

you may be gone,
but i still have you.

You dug me a grave
and told me that
you will join too.
I jumped in
without fear,
but where are you?

My hands quake,
my mouth quivers,
my nails dig into the skin on my stomach,
my breathing grows
heavier and
heavier.
Finally, you grab my hand
and I am fine.

Then I awake.

a yellow rose winds to the skies,
blossoming, letting soft petals fall to
the cidery earth, blushing in
the caverns of the sweet-flowering day,

inspired like the greek
sun-god helios but
drawn out of rhododendron
and apple, drawn out of love.

a thousand years of summer,
the wolf, the thin mouth of sky,
a diamond bumble bee, the
gifts of a stolen sun,

shaken out like a rattle snake,
the broken angles of death,
the lost side of each word,
with all its intentions and promises -

fallen to the floor, like an apple,
or a blind mole loving
the soil, the dry earth,
the faded parchment sun,

or a rock of ice, in a tangy glass,
where the summer sun
grows roots and shoots,
shadow domes and leafy golden skies.