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

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