Tuesday, May 12, 2009 at 9:42AM
soul is exquisite melancholy,
eons deep, light years black;
his music is The Flood
of the mountain ark
remembering the waters,
the view, the terrible olive
branch that said, “Land.”
Arable mountain the ship
disembarking your soul’s
grief from drowned friends'
laughter, your building while
they whiled and smiled
and said, “Pause for today;
the rain will not be so.”
But his exquisite soul,
melancholy, eons deep,
light years black, felt
otherwise, the design given
him to build,
my husband’s deep worlds.