my new world

life erupts in a thousand colours
yellow green perfume of lilac
into the living glare of sunlight
blessing our shortcomings —

seen from behind
my defensive carapace of
black clothing
relegated I am
to the geriatric darkness
of working through bereavement

you do not see me here.
you don’t even have eyes anymore

I hope you don’t mind
that I put down in words
how wonderful life was
while you were in the world


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