Remembering Her
i.
The music is no less vital to remembering you,
the glory for which goddesses get their fame,
my middle age has little more than the years
accomodating the impressive vision you were
so very long ago, yet born again in daily mass.
A memory so grand I have been days on end
to wake up, eventuality insists, in your absence
and nothing in my life approaches a withdrawl
as much as this return to reality defines a fright
no other mechanism or process has ever in life.
© 2005, rjduberg
