A balmy day and the sun shines.
The wind is gentle and forgiving
allowing me
to put the top down
as I tediously roll upon the grass
to your resting place beneath the oak,
in which I have much familiarity,
for they sprang from my grasses
almost three hundred years ago.

I gingerly remove the poinsettia
adorned with a tinsel, golden coat
displaying
the red, rich flowers
and making tentative steps
towards you.

I am donned in black velvet,
a matching camisole
and beaded shawl...
the best I could do
from a worn out closet
that has awaited for me
to don the best of my best,
with soft, black slippers
upon my feet
to absorb the touch
of the uneven earth
I walk upon.

It is my poor presentation to You,
as the chimes sing in the soft wind,
an acknowledgement
of your presence once
upon this disingenuous Earth,
some times stale and unforgiving.
But,
it is of it's nature
and shall never change.

This is a farewell but, I cannot abide
a 'goodbye'
for we knew each other before
the separation
of
the dark from the light
and have always traipsed together
upon the edges of time.

So I shall remove my glove
to feel the soft zephyr
as it caresses my hand
attempting to grasp onto it
for you shall always be
my soft,
and gently blowing breeze,
eventually carrying me

to

your

side.