It has been years
since you were gone,
a private vigil held
in my chest, a secret
I wear under my blouse,
tears behind lids with
your name. I haven't
honored with words
before now, a love
so sacred
even the limits
of pen and paper couldn't
touch you, but here
you are galloping
into my pages to be
remembered for your heart
of gold, your red sheen mantle,
your night dark eyes
of acceptance, loyalty and
love. You were
Arab and I Irish.
We transcended cultures,
continents and language,
moving into the wind
as one lifted symphony,
rising above the grass lines
exalted in fate's grace, and
disappearing into memory.
Cindy Jarrett 1998