Do not think of me as gone
I am still here
in every leaf
every blade of grass
yes I am changed
rearranged
beyond understanding
freed from earthly bond
yet I go on
for now I know not where
but in every waking moment
be sure I will be there

I am the wind
the rain which pelts and blows full in the face of adversity
and the silent sound of a million damp and aching feet
I am friendships that will never come again
and the voice of doomed youth
I am memories in old age
the scarlet smell of crushed poppies
and the iron tang of spilled blood  and rusty wire
I am hope and loss
dignity in duty
and outright defiance in the face of defeat
I am all these things
I am remembrance

What is beauty
If you see it with your eyes
and I do not share with mine
is it any the less beautiful
for being yours alone

Blow rough wind
set the sea to howling
as a barking cur
foam flecked muzzle
wave whipped fur
a dog let free
at your command
shredding promontory land
chewing on that spit of stone
wearing down its chalky bone

Does a flying bird
See exactly the same bridge
As a swimming fish

At the corner
where the year turns
Autumn’s carefree child
dressed in shades of rebellious scarlet
whistles as he walks full into Winter
a vicious hungry old man
who strips him bare naked and cold
before he strolls away to find the waiting arms of spring
she wraps him in a warm embrace
bestowing kisses sweet enough to melt his cruel and icy heart
and leaves to find the Summer
bearing gifts of fruit
with which to make the heady wine of Autumn

Sometime
onetime
anytime
does it ever feel
like sanity is dripping
slowly slipping
like an eel
gushing from the tap
of the world
and you can't get a grip
on the handle of the bucket
to pour it back in