Not Haiku

I keep your memory alive.

All that grasping for
stories, for
pictures, for
information
when you first died
help me feed my heart

so that nothing about you
will ever be obscure.

But years pass and pass, and though
I have lost the sound of your voice

I know I will recognize it
if I hear it again.

Why keep living?

Why keep living?
Well... There're those blue flowers
on the rosemary, for a start.

Untitled

Bring the water, wash
his wounds, and tend to your own,
Grieving Hecuba.

Anodyne

There are no tinctures,
no curatives, for the hurt
heart but Giving Love.

For Segue

Letting go of you...
it is like the skin is ripped
from my empty hands.