only as a man conversant with the faces of the dead including the masks of pale blue infants gone
they illuminate the air as if air knew any illumination at all
equipped with eyes cold as a glaucoma dimming away the past
he struggled in his grief and it lay spanned across every year of their lives
they were roughly consonate but fell out as a melody astringent contradicted their affection
a soured thing
a life like all others came to fell time
a mighty Sequoia beyond their ears
beyond their hearts
crashing down their vision splintered
blackened all as fiery embers swept up making vectors across the skies then vanishing
spectral
he saw her
in the morning of his life
and he never saw her again
a solitary word
again
Flynnpoetry 