Tremors
13 Sept 2023

With shaking hand, he holds  his ghosts,
Memories blurred by illness, pain,
Sweet tastes of honeyed  times, on a wooden post.
Baskets of mead, red wine, ***, stain. Spin again.

Their faces shimmer, lights to guide, lead.
Still alive in dreams. Thrive on me, said.
His smile, wrinkles, delighted in tender touch.
Passions, love partners, families, friends, such.

On the rails of time, he steadies, moving upslope.
One mountain to climb, one gate left to ‘ope.
One last great amour, stays his cold hand.
One soul, steady, true, eternal , grand.

The earth tremors, cracks, and groans.
He tremors, laughs.  He is home.