I called you up the other day,

to ask again about the way,

we all went forward

a fleet of love heading his day.

There were trees along the avenue,

laden with snow, heavy waves somber

all leading the way to his final stay.

 

There is a true relief in knowing surreal,

when we cannot put our arms around real

we instead will gaze ahead,

to memorize the moments when we

could know the love we share is a forever

seam, not certain of any impulsive end

for we are all cry quiet nostalgic dreams of love.

 

I remember that day like it was yesterday,

and this morning when along my way,

I looked in the skies to see the new melt

the trees bending to speak how sweet the way

we can recall our only chance to say good bye,

it was that bittersweet close to a chapter

His living flesh that now  each day we celebrate.

 

It is that wintry mix,

the trees a fresh pass of summer’s end,

when the chill of our own reality,

would sudden become the thrill of knowing

he was and is and always will be here nearby

no matter the frailty of a moment’s recall,

we love solemn sound we hear we feel each day.

 

And in our hearts we will sing again today,

to know this young man, this Billy is today.