scarcely of the twilight in summer’s breath
you walk unmoving above nowhere
and I, hardly the old youth of your gaze,
see the sound of autumn’s valley
where you do not stand
over the brow of winter’s hill
silence brightly listens for the scent of your voice,
when your vanishes enormously sing alone
—yet only as perfection is alone
in beginnings end the blossoms of wishes
while endings writhe in withering leaves,
so blooms dying darkly rest upon lonely nights
afar off in unfelt thoughts not forgotten
toward us the ghost of you whispers
[for and of Larenti, whose absence weighs heavily on me today for reasons I cannot explain, an old wound freshly torn open]
Awww Jason, I’m sorry.
Thank you, Mary. It’s been almost six months since he died, so I’m not sure why the loss feels so fresh today…
I wish you peace.
Thank you, Swampy.
That’s such a beautiful close-up portrait. Very “lion-like”, regal and dignified.
I’m sorry that the loss still feels like this for you.
Funny you should say that, Amar, for one of Larenti’s nicknames was Lion. Now you see why. And thank you.
We never stop missing our cats, no matter how many years gone.
So sorry for the loss.
Thank you, Rick. You’re obviously a man after my own heart: I never stop missing them.
Made me think of “Little Man” I lost a couple of years ago.
He was a stray that wouldnt live inside with my other two cats. I’ll spare the details……..
I know how you feel.
Thank you, Ed.