Shadows in The Half-Light for Michael

by Steve Luttrell

Wishes for water —
ashes for the wind —
memories with the passing
and distance from light.

Your poems now recede,
becoming perfect
with the silence
and precious as the breath.

For now enough to say
that we were here
and heard each other’s song
for a time.

And what is that,
       but all that
       really matters
after all?