(after a line from CS Lewis)
the grey dark was heavy as stone but for a patch
of light in the shape of a hand
on your pale shoulders
and a tidal wave (of grief) from nowhere–
we could not save you,
we never got to carry you down before
the sun came down and the night came down
in a mourning cape of stars;
silence came down
like birds through wind
as they slowly lost altitude,
out of sight.
Your absence is like the sky, spread over everything.
The moon tide keeps pulling away from me,
blue sky/earth meet like past/present.
Mayday Mayday (as we navigate a whole new kind of flight,
too late, but we respond day and night–
in hindsight)
I keep wondering, as we ride out the waves
and wander un-embraced shoulders of shores,
mayday: are you out there somewhere
just beyond our radar?
