The holes keep surprising me-
Negative spaces still framing lost shapes
In a picture I never abandoned;
Layered slashes of color still showing through,
Drawing eye from foreground to horizon,
Casting cool shadows in the
Burning noontime of now.
I thought your silence would be empty
But I keep hearing you in tacit measures that
Pulse to a beat set in long movements before.
Your theme still enriching the chord,
Syncopated discord and harmony;
I tap my foot.
The texture of these days
Bears the imprint of your passing-
A vessel formed between two hands
That once worked together;
Clay hardened by heat and time and long love,
Rough edges still chafing.
I knead the ache and miss you.
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