For Kyle.

I miss him like a drum misses the hand
which beats rhythm to life upon its frame.

Life will not return like a spring rain
to race the creek beds home,
nor will it meet at the estuary
and dance with his brethren
as the moon springs from her slumber,
longing to comb the earth
with her golden hair.

A whole day of working in the meadow
has restored its splendor of years ago.

But this sight to me is melancholy.

That everywhere I look,
he is no longer with us.

So much beauty pours from this land,
and yet I cannot look upon he whom I adore.

This is the lonely
in which the fibers of god
have unraveled from my limbs,
leaving me undressed
as the harvest has yet to come.

©2013 Jessica Stephenson All Rights Reserved

Advertisements

About inpotentia

Hold Fast.
Aside | This entry was posted in Poetry and tagged , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to For Kyle.

  1. Kyle Pogue says:

    II didn’t see this post until right now. I am honored by your friendship. This brings the pain of missing you into sharp focus. I love you.

    Like

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s