Untitled, for Bill Silverman
I don’t know what to call the sky
Because your eyes were blue.
I cannot seem to lift my gaze
To greet the lessened view.
Did you find a truer meadow?
Do you dance among the flowers?
How the fields where you belonged were
Far more beautiful than ours.
The days with you were my beginning,
Your fire, what lit this torch I bear.
But I can’t complete the giving:
Empty hands are everywhere.
Now would be when I fell under,
Now that shadows cross my heart.
For how can I find my way without
Your voice here in the dark?
I cry: I’ve no more words for summer skies
Your eyes were heaven’s blue—
But when at last I lift my face,
The night sky shines with you.
I don’t know what to call the sky
Because your eyes were blue.
I cannot seem to lift my gaze
To greet the lessened view.
Did you find a truer meadow?
Do you dance among the flowers?
How the fields where you belonged were
Far more beautiful than ours.
The days with you were my beginning,
Your fire, what lit this torch I bear.
But I can’t complete the giving:
Empty hands are everywhere.
Now would be when I fell under,
Now that shadows cross my heart.
For how can I find my way without
Your voice here in the dark?
I cry: I’ve no more words for summer skies
Your eyes were heaven’s blue—
But when at last I lift my face,
The night sky shines with you.