Sunrise

Your death is an angry wasp –

a hungry bear –

desire turned on it’s side, blue.

I always wanted to tell you

something meaningful like god.

As if words could summon a heart –

a tiny rainbow of hope –

taking its cue

from some other side.

You were a Diva who understood dying

well before you were sick.

I was a poet

who traded my name for numbers

and lost my deathin a life half-lived.

Both of us always running

to beat our own lovely fall.

Your falling was a quiet farewell –

no more talking our way out of this one.

I said good-bye like a broken drum

while you commanded that heart to stop.

It seems we are both still trying to speak –

Me – a mad pen, tired bones, an ache –

You, a deplorable sunrise

another moon

the light.