It is

not

what

we

do

It is

not

what

we

have

It is

not

where

we

go

It is

only

who

we

touch

After all

in the

end

all of

us

live

on

only

in the

memories

of

others’

immortality

Listening

wind in

willows

rain on

glass

gurgles in

creek

sand under

foot

birds in

flight

leaves on

ground

silence in

heavens

breathing in

sleep

laughter of

children

tears of

longing

sobs of

breaking

crackles of

warmth

sighs of

comfort

giggles of

passions

these

many

things

are

my

life

sounds

Time

thinking

isolated

pondering

wondering

contemplation

absent

muses

words

lacking

hunger or

thirst

bland and

tasteless

ceasing

imagery

adrift

one

man

in a

one

man

boat

Walking

out

unkept

ruffled

hair

wrinkled

mismatched

clothes

unconscious

adrift

untethered

dirigible

unshaven

amiss

you

took

your

eyes

my

only

reflection

with

you

you

were

my

only

mirror

of

me

Unlatching

cage

fluttering

freedom

wings

spread

you

soared

airborne

circling

you

returned

once

shooing

away

insisting

courage

forcing

liberty

bird

tears

then

flights

of

angelic

heaven

to

your

future

you

went

Serpentine

road

ahead

uncertainty

cautious

twilight

my future

lies

one step

ahead

traversing

craggy

paths

moving

tail

winds

holding

your

arm

we

go

My

eyes

leap

off

your

cheekbones

diving

into

deep

chocolate

morsel

ponds

where

I

swim

languidly

like a

teen-aged

boy

on

summer

vacation