As Always Poem by Diana van den Berg

Strapped
white-lipped
on the rack
I reached your domain
and seismically
around my needy shoulders
you wrapped
sun-soaked skies
and happy flower-colours
and teenage buds
on a tree dressing for Spring
and horses
and dogs
and friendly smiles
and real conversations.
And relief and serenity
slow-flowed every capillary
and there,
at your grave,
under the late winter sun,
I smiled
slow
and deep
and long.

(26 July 2003)