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by Kay Weeks

I walk with grizzled grief; you fly with birds;
infinitives "to sing”, but not “to die”,
pass through my mind in silence, without words,
and I will come to see you by and by.

Those times in error rise and fall like tides;
I push them out to sea, but they return,
reminding me that something else decides
how long we stay—when will I ever learn?

I try embracing loss—befriending him,
cajole, appeal, console, but quick, deny;
then back again, cloud-currents I can swim,
traversing miles in my mind--the sky!

I left; you’re back; we travel as a pair,
conversing without words, and light as air.

10.21.13 For David


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