I came to meet you after work
your long gypsy skirt nearly brushing the concrete,
as if telling it to stop looking so gray
I can still see you sitting right there across from me
we had some tacos
but mostly we had conversation
I naturally dislike talking
but you got me to talk
something about that combination of wit and heart,
draws the grit out of a person, fills one with light
a list of things my faulty memory leaves me with:
waiting in the parking lot, after fireworks
you showing me the chicken wing move, aka how to hurt someone who is trying to hurt you
sitting next to you in silence, listening to Brugnaro's poetry
things from your travels- sticky notes from Germany, a frosted ornament
how you, in stilettos, could walk faster than me, even though I was wearing sneakers
a hug in the 2nd floor hallway on an especially dark day
I know it is selfish to say to God- please let her stay on this earth a while longer, we have such need of her here.
and there was that Lindy Hop class you wanted to take.
these 23~ years you lived and loved so generously
that love is not gone, but here with us
So I will pray instead that we will take that faith, that love, that fight for justice, and heart for others and share it, as you surely would have.
