She

She came like an idea, an inspired flash that
illuminated new corners.

We were like small children with big dreams,
daring our future to dawn.

I surrounded our initials with a heart in the snow.
Then came the spring,

a beautiful season of life that
we did not enjoy.

And so I disguised myself as the guy who
drinks alone in bars.

Life

The vocabulary of a million tadpoles articulating
one thing.

“Let there be new life barely different
from the old.”

I hope my sons speak and that their daughters repeat
those words in their songs.

I dreamt your tears became snowflakes that then
filled the oceans.

The early morning light assured me this
was their journey.

Death

When we only have lessons to give and none to learn
do we die?

When our name is spoken for the last time
do we die?

When we cross someone’s mind for the last time
do we die?

When our race becomes someone else’s race
do we die?

When the sun forgets to keep us warm
will we die?

Hope

I drew a heart to hold our initials in the snow
and you saw it and smiled.

Every spring a million tadpoles wriggle
towards a frog.

Everything that makes us hold on will continue
beyond our uttered name.

The daughters of our sons will keep these things,
safe for us

and every unspent hour will be set aside awaiting
tomorrow’s today.