It accumulated before the storm,
tumbling up and up and while we
stood struck by our radiance,
the horizon electricity gave way
to thunder, leaving our crown to
dissolve, intermittently gracing
cheeks, stinging eyes, nevertheless
hovering luminous, and still
I know there doesn't exist ice
that will not melt.

And I, my halo of hailstones,
I am both chilled and graced still,
and you, my halo of hailstones,
you are almost gone.

08/16/2010

Author's Note: Full title: A Valediction Allowing for the Possibility of Mourning

Posted on 08/16/2010
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