You, back there where I stood…wish you were here
lying with me now where you lived…in cool
California morning breeze…almost clear
and now drought dry inland from the sea. Who’ll
understand here how your loving spirit
flows with me even though you find your own
way. How you smile at my smile though fear it.
Know I understand. What the gods have shown
to poets you show to me. Later I’ll
sit by Lake Tahoe, no doubt will see you
straddling your kayak, laughing as I trill
some song of life. Together we’ll dive through
deep blue…rise to welcome air…stare at each
other like gods…enfold hands…walk the beach.
Roger Armbrust
August 7, 2015
