White shirt

Hope, eclipsed this golden morning by old

Aching wounds and survival

 

Apart from you. I am surrounded

by such wrinkled beauty

 

And my capacity to remember

to be at home with it

may be what saves me:

 

Pieces together becoming

a sweet and generous memorial

 

In my soul- your smells, your eyes, your smile.

 

Hope, wrapped

(intertwined really)

in the remarkable pleasure

of confiding

in a cherished friend

 

How I miss you.

 

Enjoying your unconditional presence

Softening patiently

Hope, this evening I recall it.