I can't help but dream of you
and me, sitting, drinking cups of tea.
Talking, mildly discussing, of the color blue;
all its hues and its philosophy

Alone without the fussy world
distracting.  To Be, no fear, simple.
And in the crashing waves of endless Time
we could stop.

It was a sunny day
when grandpa died
I sweated in my little tie
cloudless sky, all dressed in black
the sun cared not for grandpa's death

I dug a little hole, to be
the home of flowers presently
inside a squirming worm in slime
fled the sudden sunshine