Where now,
Yiska-
where now

do you lay
your head?
That summer,

that green grass,
your head
in my lap,

the hair damp
from the sun's heat,
the eyes closed

against glare of sun.
Where now do you lie?
Yiska-

there once we lay,
summer's warmth,
blue skies,

your hand in mine,
my finger tracing
the curve

of your spine.
Whose arms now
embrace you?

Yiska,
who lips, now,
plant kisses

along your neck
and thigh?  
Which sun?

Which dull
or blue sky?