I stopped for a visit

at the end of the day,

as shadows crept up the hill,

and sunshine dwindled away,

while the closing whistle blew

a farewell at the mill.

.

I miss keeping in touch,

but you haven't a phone anymore,

my letters are returned and such,

so we talk through the diaphanous door,

our secret diaphanous door.

.

We speak of this old town,

that we wear like a shawl.

How you loved it- the kind hearts

neighbors' smiles and all.

To never have to leave when it's time

to sleep- to stay near our loves,

and still be in their keep.

.

Heaven behind the gates- all you can crave,

Sunshine on the pines- moonlight on your grave.

07/12/2005