My grief for you
the eventual loss of the Us we have become
is boundless and deep.
The images of a barren home
lived in by one of the Us.
populates and haunts prememory.
Dwell not in the past.
But better there then some imagined future
bereft and betwixt without and within
our love.
I struggle to pare
to sliver and trim and whack and cut
these blocks of words and letters
free of superfluousness
down and down to essential meanings
but not shorn of elegance and beauty.
To be here now
and not in the future.
To not live in the past
but to be here because of it.
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