To Sing the Ever Present Farewell
The way your breast rises,
small pillows,
two doves in autumn,
so, too, the song escapes.
I admit my part,
warbled promise, uncombed
and shivering,
free to worry
under its pull.
Still it comes,
inexorable tide
lowing a sorrow
through filtered light
till dawn.
O at the Edges 
Reading this today triggers recognition of my son’s passing as a life lesson prepping me for future farewells … others who feel part-of-me … and ultimately: me … “ever present farewell” acknowledges impermanence. I’m learning daily to live in the right-now and not hedge any bets on what’s ahead.
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I try to live in the now, but am seldom successful. What looms ahead (not necessarily for me, but for others) is always a concern.
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