Again

You are still missing
The space that holds your name echoes
Still
With your absence
When a memory hangs suspended
On a moment

A photo
Hanging suspended
In a café
Reminds me of Petite Teton
Your little running joke
I smile
But a tear drops to the bottom
Of the well

A Buddhist description of the Grand Canyon
Evokes images
Of Palo Duro
Nature’s artwork
Etched indelibly
By your hands and blood

You always talked of the magic of the Canyon
Stories of worn rock
Where the grandmothers ground corn
tales of the presence
of Shaliko
footsteps heard from those unseen
the Roadrunner visiting not by chance

In hindsight
I see that you are both magician and magic
Weaving a tapestry of love and mystery
Mingled with earth and sweat
Creating myth
Now you exist as both
Myth and magic
No longer tangible
But omnipresent in this place
And my thoughts

We were careless with each other
Not out of neglect
But out of comfort
as is the way with those we love the most
Accepting our histories
Excepting a few details
Forgetting faults
Finding the best things to build our friendship on
Having the time of our lives
But never having enough time

Larger than life
Until life could no longer contain you
Your experience showed in
Philosophizin’
But the wild child
And rascal moonshiner in you never grew up
Mischief always gave itself away
In your smile

What is it about death
That I can’t touch you any more
But you can still touch me
When I least expect it

LB
4/8/09