May 2016

I am thinking of the dead
who are still with us
on their way in the rain
to meet lovers or brothers
and my sadness waves back
like grain in the fields
of lost summers and summers
before that, fireflies in the dark
still young and beautiful
like starry nights, but for them
there is no moon, and for us
the same news we do not receive.

In memory of Barry.
April 3, 1955 - May 15, 2015.  
You are missed, Brother,
r
Written by
r  NC
(NC)   
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