BusterStronghart@Gmail.com

Forgetting

A clock keeps striking

And the echoes move in files

Their faces have been lost

Flowers of salt

Tongues from lost languages

Doorways closed with pieces of night.

W.S. Merwin

(For Bob, Peter, Danny, Richie) 

You left just as the stars were beginning to go

You left as the colors, sand and rocks

And the shades of late summer.

W.S.Merwin