Rhonda

brown glass fragrance bottle beside white pearl bracelets

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. 

 

 

Promise year: 41

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To have and to hold “will not last long”

-too messy too expectant they said

yet 41 promise years later,

we stand each whole and yet one.  

Never really over,

the gospel of love embraced.

The time together traced in the lives of too many

but especially three

with days years or moments left to bloom.