Blue

What I remember of your soft face
Are your eyes. And such eyes -
Blue as longing, snapping with wit,
Kind but wicked humor worked like lace
Hung upon clean windows.
How could I forget any of it?
The sneaking up behind to scare you with a kiss,
The crinkled joy in your grandmother face,
Our laughter rising in crescendos.
I would not forget any of this
Now that you have left this place.

You are There now, loved away,
Running on strong legs that do not creak;
Dancing with your boys, singing with your sister.
I would not have asked you to stay.
And though you could not hear me speak,
I would tell you that I miss her,
My own sister, now yours to play with
To spit shine all the streets of gold with,
To laugh about her last days and yours,
When she fed you dinner, sitting in bed,
Grand child tending grand mother.
(And a striking thought endures
That you savored the irony, nothing said.
Mischief smiled, took a bite, and then another.)

Your sons, your mother, your sister and mine
Have no doubt formed a competitive choir
To give the angels a good go of it.
So when comes my own time
I will breathe my last and cheerfully mount the pyre.
I expect you there to witness it
When I make my heavenly debut.
But until we meet again, I will remember
Your eyes of perfect blue.