A shallow grave

You are gone

from me now,

and you are

shifted to grey

in that great realm

of memory

that is in me

and beyond me.


Your coloured smile

paints this memory

with times

of joy and

moments of touch

that become

my consolation

as much as

the faded photos,

bend with age,

that are

so distant

and so close.


You are buried

in a shallow grave

in this memory:

buried near the surface,

so near

that you emerge

grey and still

looking at me

with your

blue eyes.


Yes, you are gone

but you are here,

in the tender parts

of me,

and resident

in the tears

and in the flashes

of colour

that take me

back to you.