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buzzing

as chatters
of communion –
rush beneath the wake
heaven sleeps in silk
beside the grey
wing’ed soldiers
guarded now – the rights
of letting go
speak as one
within the serenade

as wings
above the rising
blush the story told
how fleeting we –
to fade before the light
were longing
but another –
price we had to pay
dreams are all we’ve left
to stem the fight

beg not
this moment’s best
to win –
our presence
to remember
the way the tulips
crowd against the lawn
the way the mourning
sits atop
sheets of shining steel
to grieve the missing soul
his only one

. . .