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.