I've yet to write of the child in me
that kept you close
and made you smile
I've yet to write of the terror in me
that held life and death
on a precariously short leash
I've yet to write of my love for you
though draining and awkward
was the love meant for this soul
take me to where the light
follows the waves to my feet
as she settles in
behind the horizon
and I will write my final words
at dusk
in the hours that remain
in the moments I have saved
in the grace of the setting Sun