You are in My Circle

To Karl A.

 

You wore your grief unseen like

your skeleton: always there but never

directly in view unless you know the landmarks

to watch for after your true love dies.

 

What was it like, your passing?  Did it quietly ring with

Amazing Grace going on ahead?  Did you lean out

of your body, moving like clouds announcing a storm?

Was it like a math equation, never anything

but fixed and perfect?

 

Wherever and whatever you are, (or perhaps

you are undefinable) I am drawing a circle

of gratitude wide enough to encompass your compassion,

all your great glad works lighting our hearts, and more,

I am drawing the hoops and loops that humble and hold us in unity,

to invite one to kindness, to sow peace in an unpeaceful world,

and to affirm that you are magnificently loved

like numbers love their own square root.

 

J. Pratt-Walter, ⓒ 2022

If Dreams Were Arms

,

Remember how the shape of the air

fit around you?

And the trees, so surprised at

your sterling beauty.

And if dreams were arms

and lips formed air,

I would hold you, singing, forever.

Now you honor a different wind;

skin can’t feel it,

but the heart surely can, and there,

such music that ears can’t bear

to hear.

J. Pratt-Walter

© 2018