A summer past, a winter borne
A twelvemonth you've been gone
Into the black froth - no handheld warmth
Memories softened - the hour hand falls.
Lost, you often spake of times gone by -
The vines of past, snaked upon present
Until it all melted into a giant obsidian sky -
We let your thought pot simmer and ferment
The cadence of your exclamations echoes
In the frothy walls of our minds
In your final hour, you were afloat alone
Drowning with your demeaning demons.
But the hour falls again - gravity the victor
This arms race against time and mind
Won in Mother Earth's womb
But not by you.
We tried to search for reason in that place;
I did - they fell back on the race track
Content in their hearts - they did not lift the veil.
So I'm left to clean up the dead like insect stacks
With a broom and brush in hand, I think I can -
Might sweep away you in the dust -
It doesn't even matter now does it?
You're a fleck in the cosmos afar
Back in the belly of that exploding star
From which your atoms were first born -
Maybe you're in peace, whole - but I am torn.
