11 Apr Nebula
And he is missed less and less by the passing of each moment
Like the butterfly harping across wind strings
His arrogant presence is no more and it makes room for silence and acceptance
Happiness, gleaming from every part
Of fingers and toes and eyelids
Of color and weightlessness when walking or speaking and going.
To moving on to reaching far.
Arms outstretched to embrace the sun’s kisses and are coddled by the moon’s cheese-gaped holes
And her grace is restored
And she floats like an angel-winged dove amongst the clouds in the endless night sky.
The Stars have taken her home.
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