when I no longer see you
may those who see you see you well
walking with a long view
by some swelling water or declining fell,
wearing, as you do now, a sleeveless blouse
your girlish shoulders, straight back,
once dark hair thinned and silvered
as the sky your bold eye scans
someday by a confluence of buried river
and submerged stream
not beached I hope nor lonely
remember days adrift in cloud
the scented meadows of our flesh
while walking city streets or wooded track
when bones compound or twist your back
let those who see you see you well
from Hole in the WallFind more by Tom Pickard at the library
Copyright © 2002 Tom Pickard
Used with the permission of Flood Editions.