We grieve, pay homage, we understand time,
begins a new journey to someplace sublime.
We are told,
Often the eyes give way to the old.
I remember not knowing anything anymore,
except the memory of his meaning before,
all the laughter we created together,
became a notion we could embellish further.
I wonder if they ever do truly understand,
when left behind there’s little we might demand,
beyond an answer, a suggestive tease in nature,
would tell us about some idyllic hopeful future.
I once knew a young man, pretty and brave and love,
yet today in memory I still wait for him every day above