(for KE)

Your sun has set, and I was not prepared.

Your light, hard shuttered, gone missing from my path 

Reveals no more the places you would show.

Your warmth reduced to memory, mere hint of what it was

While yet it burned.


The moon has tried its best, through faint remembrance

Offered up through gentle darkness by the night.

Scarce real enough that shadows come to pass,

It warms me not, nor lets me see what walks outside my walls.

But only hints of passages not read,

Of thoughts not spoken, words not said.


The stars come out to tease of distant suns,

Too far by far, too faint to banish darkness here. 

Perhaps themselves extinguished long ago,

They offer only echoes of the light, and living,

We were gifted once to know.


Here in my dark emerge reflections from my heart,

Mere glimmers of some thought, brief flash of insight, spark of life,

Warm embers, not extinguished,  

Deny the fullness of the fall.

Perhaps in time to light away the dark.


What knows the day of night, the dark of light?

Tomorrow infiltrates the past

By blending brilliance with that blankness from before

And learning, in your absence, how to see.

Still together, we move forward towards the dawn.



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