good night

Glowy flowy January day,

your death is gentle, sad, and bittersweet.

Will you forgive me when I utterly forget you?

I want a book of all your beautiful days.

We sit and drink our tea and wedding cookies, 

the light sparkles through the prisms in the window, 

rainbows drop into the living room and set like jewels in a crown.

In the path of the beams we try to wear the rainbows, but they want something else. 

I see rainbows but don't feel them. 

I feel joy, but can't have it. I had an Italian wedding cookie 

but it's gone. Here I am.

Now my theater is empty and the lights are off.

It's blessed to lose and rest. 

My dreams are waiting to remember

what I won't.