You were a woman of soft grey
skirts and glasses; a little boy in tow at
the place that we met.
As the years pounded by, you became
my pasture of Heaven and my honeysuckle friend.
Your waterfall love washed over me.
It cleansed me like a violet stream,
dappled by the leaves on
the cottonwood trees.

Once I dreamed that we flew together on
the back of a bluebird and laughed until
our jaws ached, and we ate honeydew until the
juice ran down our face and dripped onto
the bird's wings.

But we always wake from dreams,
and birds fly away and build nests;
yet, I know that the light which shines
through you; that exudes from your soul
will always be my heat and my feather.