for a dear friend
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;
notes scrawled below the photographs
so earnest, some frightened, searing out,
wondering if we could do enough for this world.
Looking back through November leaves
I stumble over this thought, wondering
could this world really be worthy of you?
Uncovering those later pictures, your children,
the ocean behind your bright white hair
and I know it is yes, all worth it, especially you
reminding us all these years of what is real:
loving, letting go, lighting the lamp.