Two years have given us the full measure, and still the hole left by my father's loss gapes. In reaching for the memories sometimes it feels like trying to capture rain, and the realization dawns that each drop is its own precious keepsake:
Sunset & Shadows
Indeterminate memories surface
on the rim of sundown's flange,
murky is the mind's eye, misted,
recall's uncertain grasp steadies
the fog, uncoiling Time, untwining
inaudible is the voice, cloistered
nubilous the final image, obscured
all I can reclaim, across distance,
is a prosaic portrait, near trivial,
of a young son with father, clasped,
warmed in the shadows of closing day
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