01 August 2009

94 │ almsgiving

To be said in the twilight, wandering, and for whom
all of our lives had been numb to the touch
then to think, my god, of this planet
through which we entered unwittingly to form
as strokes of luck inhabiting bodies
the trade off being infinite spaces secret
obsequious flickers and fancies
Forget-me-nots yielding and weeping
and the glorious passing sky that had been
waiting for us suspended
overcome by our whimsical nature
and the very essence
of that we sought

for Gretchen Moer, on the day of her burial, 1 August 2009


Sally said...

A lovely tribute to Gretchen's being. Sally

Anonymous said...

M jizzy.

owe ya a fone call.

Did you rite that?

e dirty

Anonymous said...

really? it's amazing.