Lingering beneath the Japanese Maple
at sunset, I slip into faraway dreams
and find still lit inside light you willingly
shared with me.

     Tiny golden finches swoop down to settle
on nearby branch as if acutely aware
of sadness that passes like a sweeping wind
straight through me.

     Flowering purple, stubby tree provides shade
enough from burning pain that lengthens by day,
lumbers as a giant shadow through my sleep
all the night.

     Pray that dimmed light you first saw and sparked in me
might be rekindled; that nature’s soothing grace
might rouse my tired spirit to dance once more
in sweet joy.

     For I have been long in dying and cannot
see a reason for rising up from this place
of remembrance until final sunset falls
down on me.