sometimes at dusk
the suns gentle light cuts through
the tender heart I harbor

and the loss of you flutters before me
as a gossamer moth…
luminous tissue too delicate
to last in this world

And I was an owl in the day
to your truth
that bounce in your step
a thin veneer

and the darkness came
and you were caught
leaving behind the iridescent
residue of your love

and how it shines and shines
on our hands
in our hearts
always.

For Sam Sorkin, always.

Abstract Painting by Allison Kunath