b e f o r e

Painting by Patricia Larkin Green

with you
everything becomes
quite quintessential
to my being
and for keeping
my heart alive
it is your redolent
spice-freckled odor left
on my pillow in the 
dim lit mornings that I most
feel your love as a
leftover
but just as full with flavor
And the pastiche
that is your rag-tag soul
half torn and well worn
and often too tired to go on
but still with squirts and bursts of
brilliance now and then that I
find so winning
yes, it is a scintilla
lighting fire in my eyes when
I see yours spark and I remember
the summery love
that flew out your words
at me 
before