Saturday, May 9, 2009


She left her mark within my cheekbones
as sure as summer her shape is mine
I even think within the lining
of my heart she left her sign

The shaded place of back yard peace
like open book is where she stays
sometimes she is in the humming
of a morning dove upon her grave

I see the skirt of many colors
circle round her sun tanned legs
I feel her reach across the chasm
to place four leaf clovers on this page

So fragile is the lip of time
that death has left upon my heart
that in the evening dwells the perfumed
evening breeze her fragrance’s part

Gather round her all the wild flowers
oceans place her in their fold
captured are the star-night feathers
that fall upon her heavenly stroll

I see her in my mirror smiling
she shades her eyes within my own
and in the sand of summer’s footprints
she is not walking all alone

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