January 28, 2016

These are the monuments.
Here are the hillsides.
There is the sea.
Your monuments bequeathed to me.

These are the hillsides
Swept away.
Rain, wind and rage.
Your monuments resting in me.

This was the sunlight
And all its blue
And still, now, that longing,
That yearning for you.

Here are your monuments,
And the rain falling,
Your hair falling,
Wrenched in purity.

This was the wind,
That carried you,
Your voice, a lyric,
A shadow elegy.

These are the monuments.
Those moments held still,
These murmurs of the sea.