Strong like storms

Time softens

the shadow of Death.

Once stark,

now faded:

such a

malleable silhouette.

But is it too soon?

       So disproportionate

       was the length of your existence

       to that of

       your removal,

       I shiver to ignore

       for one day

       your exclusion.

And you were

strong like storms,

not in your execution

of action,

but in the weight

of your companionship.

And you were

loud like thunder,

if not in your elocution

of words,

then in the child

behind their laughter.

I fear its decay:

       your voice turned echoes,

       decreasingly palpable

       in the fray of

       trudging forward.

       Increasingly distanced

       from your time-stamp

       on a world

       never the same.

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