For Mark
2/22/60 - 6/22/01
It is in the eventide, when the heavens
Are bruised purple
When the wind sighs softly
And the pines whisper in my ear
It is then, in the stillness of my heart
I unwrap the memory of you
With particular and meticulous care, I unfold
The fragile parchment wrapping
That holds you inviolate
Secreted safely within me
Hidden, unseen, veiled
Known only to my heart and soul
I close my eyes; cherished sensation
Of you surges within me, filling
emptiness, soothing aching need
With remembrance, and
For a moment in eternity
Dream becomes blessed reality
And, when the darkness gently falls
Bringing nighttime's balm
Of forgetfulness
I carefully bind up your memory
Within the silver strands
Of my abiding love