I light a small lamp
in the room of memory
recalling places we touched,
the knowing in your eyes
and the honesty, always the honesty.
In the photographs so earnest, frightened, searing,
wondering if we could do enough for this world.
Looking back I stumble, thinking
was this world worthy of you?
Uncovering the later pictures, seeing
the ocean behind your bright white hair
I know it was, especially how you reminded us
all those years of what is real:
loving, letting go, lighting the lamp.