To live a life in a day
the difference is plain
there’s no doing it again.
A flight within the 4th-dimension
no squirming weasel words for you
just a graceful flutter and decline
On a wing and a prayer
No absence of synesthesia there.

A mingling of the finest bouquet
With the deepest regret in a minor chord
The tug at your heart and a tear at your chest
Just flower after flower, nectar is best.

“O! I wish I could turn words into wishes.
O! I wish my days would fall into line”
This evening is so heavy, the rain has gone,
days’ and nights’ penumbras shine on you
as you flutter past, my window, at your last
swan song,
a weeping song,
for you.
a rose garden in eternity
sweet white flowers above the path
rain drops cling to petals,
mist in the garden hides
whispered absences of you,
softly seeping nuances,
echoes of you
in the end of days in Palo Alto,
with heavy music in the air,
the stretching of reality,
and you, no longer there.

Shadowing the shadows
your words-remembered flight
in the fading autumn light
your wings crisp and falling
now memories flare in the living air,
with you no longer there,
there’s oblivion in the air.

(1) Gregory Alan Isakov covers "The Trapeze Swinger" - YouTube