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Strong like storms
Time softens
the shadow of Death.
Once stark,
now faded:
such a
malleable silhouette.
But is it too soon?
So disproportionate
was the length of your existence
to that of
your removal,
I shiver to ignore
for one day
your exclusion.
And you were
strong like storms,
not in your execution
of action,
but in the weight
of your companionship.
And you were
loud like thunder,
if not in your elocution
of words,
then in the child
behind their laughter.
I fear its decay:
your voice turned echoes,
decreasingly palpable
in the fray of
trudging forward.
Increasingly distanced
from your time-stamp
on a world
never the same
