Dawning Creations

Remembering, a white quilt,
sleeping sweetly,
Snow dusts mountaintops
and winter shows her face all too much, this spring.

I miss your summer love.
You were always cold,
craving the warmth and the sun.
Your love for golf
leaving you chasing rainbows and green fields of living grass and open woods.

I remember the sun,
the constant light in your eyes.
I remember you,
full of life and wisdom.

I remember the ticking of your heart,
the peace surrounding you as you read the paper.
Your coffee cup was your constant companion.

You and uncle Matt played rummy.
You’d shuffle the cards
as if they were a part of you
Swiftly sliding through your nimble fingers,
the cards blurred until laid onto the table.
Your cigarette smoke crowned the table too,
and billowed in the air above you.

You were unapologetic and ethereal
in your authority.
The confusing words that encircled
my brain, you made sense of.

I reminisce about your stories,
your admiration of innocence in nature.
You told me about the mornings on the hill.
The birds, the deer and bear roamed aimlessly, untouched.
There will come a day when I will stop and sit, again.
I will stop and sit and observe what you saw and hopefully feel you there with me.