I’ve gone about learning to love you as I do,
in thought and idea, as though memories,
I’ve made my own and wonder often,
how it will be when I can no longer see you,
and if you will ever find your way back to me,
in the spill of how many words I’ll write in ink,
and what you will say to me then, and how I will miss you.
Still Light
Poetry is at least an elegance and at most a revelation.
