4/25

Woke to gray skies amd rain over Flood Creek,

To waters we once watched wrapped in the nearness of each.

Now I watch alone.

Woke to knowing you and knowing this mid-day

I would wake you beyond my reach, but not beyond my love.

I love you.

The skies' tears did hold and on the banks of that quiet creek

Came so many to speak sweetly of you and to remember you,

To cry, to laugh.

We met by the hayfields of the neighboring farm to ours.

Mid morning some on the dock were fly fishing the serene waters

For the tables, others gathered spring flowers.

Under a tent, banners fluttering, we came to speak respect for My Dear

With love, compassion, honor. Voices, guitar, rising gently in song.

Cowboy poetry leading us on.

We spoke of his generosity, his kindness, his enthusiasm. For what

Brought him joy, his dedication to endeavors he found worthy,

Of the loyalty he gave his friends.

We remembered his humor,

Which he did share with many, with words of love, tinged

Joyful and sad.

I did speak of this man I love, of the life we shared.

I do not know, Jack, how you were there, but for how

My heart felt.

I did not see the deer cross the lawns,

As I spoke of your mornings out in our fields,

Nor the eagle soaring up by the sun.

I did not see, as I spoke of your carving, five geese fly up from the creek,

Where we had so loved watching them. "Jack's Flight!" whispered

the Navy pilots, among our friends.

White wings of a butterfly brushed by me seen only by our friends. But,

I did see your friends, your colleagues, felt love from those distant,

Bringing a sense of serenity.

I lifted my voice to you. It is an ending and I am sad beyond all aching.

Others did welcome the memory of you into their hearts.

Mine will long ever.