For Yara & The Elf
The world has fallen quiet; there’s a softness about its edges that brings a somber peace I am not yet ready to accept, and so I bury myself here in the reminiscence of you — in all that you made us — the delicate threads of our connection, woven densely and tightly over so much time, but severed in an instant; petals on the wind.
As always, the river runs faithfully — cool waters cascading over rocks and green life, reflecting the pink and blue-gray of the clouds. Sun washes its banks, and I lie back in tall grasses, fading flowers, and wild herbs. They frame my view and sway on dry, fragrant breezes that hint at the changing season, the turning tide. Lost in the warm touch of summer’s final moments, autumn will leave you behind, forever embraced in the lush gravity of this space. So much life and care in those years that brought us here. Toward the story’s end, I imagine they had become lost to the shadow behind your eyes, but I remember and remain fixed in the moments of tenderness that fastened the togetherness of our hearts; beating as one even longer than memory allows.
