Good days, bad days - gone, forgotten.
But the perfume you wore still stirs me.

Gray morning, chill in the air.
Cafe tables fill as the sun burns through.

On a stone bench at the gravesite,
a yellow butterfly fans its wings.

the music       of falling water
a fountain       in the sunlight

      power outage       lightning flashes
thunder shudders       the windows

    the silence       of a library
late shadows       cross the window

from behind dark glasses       her eyes
                              so much       more beautiful now

GONE NOW

I long
for times we'd spent
alone. The hours and days
we knew would last forever. We
were wrong.