The wind carried voices
to us from the water:
friends we had not seen in ages,
calling up from the cove below.
We saw faces marred by salt and age
break into crooked smiles
among the waves.
Later, we gathered in your living room.
Your father's brother picked up a guitar
he had found in the corner.
He played the life out of those strings
with his barrelman's hands.
Quietly, he shook light into the room—
fading light, soft-sound
reflected light—
I forgave myself
for the tears that came.
In that moment,
I wanted to know what you would say
had you been there to see
how life goes on.
I wanted you to say what you always said
when I was little
and I felt lost:
Oh little heart's ease
great grand new
come to life in the spring.
One last time, I wanted to say hello
and I miss
and I love.