Ode To M.

Your hair held sunlight in chamomile waves,
Freckles betrayed how the Nutmeg behaves.
Unlike others in summer, all others absorbed
With products, players, and uniforms,
Your handwriting divining sublime as cuneiforms,
We drove from Rhode Island to south of Concord

Where your grandparents’ cabin overlooked ponds,
A surrounding sea of green fern fronds;
Pine scents all-time standing sentry,
You brought your diary, heart-shaped lock,
On a porch of glowing feldspar rock
I watched as you wrote your last entry.

Yesterday I stood at your grave,
You did not know how much you gave,
Darkness defeated by a smile and a touch.
The unfinished diary buried beside you,
An ossuary jar with incense too,
A rosary in a rabbit hutch.

2 thoughts on “Ode To M.

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