six months ago
                  today
   you left us to
                     hug Jesus.
           it still doesn't
                           seem real.
              Maybe it never
                                   will.

          With beauty and
                               grace
                   life goes on
            just as I imagine
                          you knew it would.
  
              I look for your
                            smile in the clouds
                  on a rainy day
               I picture you talking
                          to God sitting by
                                     a bonfire
                       on the 4th of July.

                I still think, maybe
                      you went home
                                 too soon...
                     maybe it could
                        have ended
                                     different.

                        Out of the
                                darkness
                      y­our wicked grin
                                         crept.
                        Out of the
                                 darkness
                       you grew wings.

              maybe I'll always
                           wonder why,
                     like everyone else.
              maybe you'll tell us
                                      someday
                ­ when we too
                                get to
                     talk to Jesus
                           on a distant
                     4th of July