Vibration hovering ghostlike after
wind chimes’ caresses, echo confusing
me until I recognize your laughter
in its persistent song, still refusing
to leave me after all this ebb and flow
of learning to live without you. Love, you
fled like an erupting geyser. I know
I stood for hours, soaked in warm, mystic blue
of your tears, wondering why I…what pleas
I should have bled. Listen. Wherever you’re
lying now, in bed or under shade tree,
I hope you hear this lyric, feel its pure
tremble wisp across soft field of your face,
recalling how I held you, praised your grace.
Roger Armbrust
May 25, 2009
