if he were to search for her now

remembering the spelling of her name

in its exactness for match

he would find nothing

no trace of her

nothing beyond a clipping of newspaper

once scanned to microfiche

and then online catalog

only mentions of her

posthumously past tense

in several old obituaries

lovingly remembered by …

carried on in memory by …

forever in the heart of …


but that’s where her trail ended

no further evidence she remained

walking among the rest

remembering, memorializing anyone

it was as if

her existence ended

when he left



wrapped around –




four –

with each silk binding

a memory locked

forever around her wrist.

tight to the pulse,

it captured her heartbeat

and guarded her from

losing life’s moments.

protecting the pieces,

the remains of them

held in rhythm

and kept her heart going

one day,

two keep,

three beats,

four love.



when the great light falls below

sinking slowly into the hour past hands

she shines her golden glow upon all

surrounding in witness of her end

cast in this elemental energy

she bestows upon her onlookers

an idea of how beautiful

can be the end

not always tragic explosion

nor walk of suffering

but sometimes

a graceful dance

spinning into the night

wound tight in gold