I chose the yellowed white pearls your hands crafted,

gifted art, 

entwined with my memory forever.

Now on the morning drive west

the pink gold sun

rises slowly behind me.

This gift speaks your goodbye to me.

Your death was from my art undone.

I am sorry.

There is more care than orders scripted or procedures done,

more than the fatigue of so much hurt.

I chose the yellowed white pearls

entwined in memory,

awakened to a daily becoming,

not fading

burning off the haze of dawn.