to leave your jacket
in pebbles
along the dry road

to hang your hat
on the dead
willow branch

and then walk
walk
walk
until...

is not forgetting

i still see
the pure color of
your left ear
in birch bark
between the brown trees
a ghost of dark woods

and the chipped
black lacquer
on your narrow fingernails
show among the warm
volcanic rocks

i still feel
the pink, gentle hills
around your mouth
like old, red kites
swollen
in pale sky

so i remember your beauty
for so many years
a maze of possibility
that puzzled my eyes

and your saintly kindness
that spared animals
and all the quiet folk
this you shyly denied

and i remember your happiness
folded in golden laugher
and loving comfort
but that
i failed to provide