Our conversations in still moments, despite
what some might say is gone, your body being
here, continue. Your delight unceasing guides
toward an ever-present gift: how this shines
against the shadows only such light will lift.
That you always knew and carried the cost
never in doubt: what could be saved narrowly lost,
you preserve of the best and bright,
regardless of the overwhelming torrent of thoughts.
Others as sensitive towards you as they persist
towards themselves a practical impossibility.
Held now forever by those who care, you endure.
Your soul stands out, the great heart of being
neither wrong nor unfair, declares:
what always counts is that you love, however unprepared.
https://www.byrnfuneralhome.net/obituary/logan-phillips October 18, 2005 – January 25, 2020
In the photograph several aunts, uncle,
fathers, mothers, children stand alive
where another world survives outside
the lines of old school lives, jobs and defiant
strife contained in concrete times, as if
Existence, a whippoorwill’s breath after
song, gone from accident, disease
and age, no homes left nor acquaintances
to bring together what’s unsaid in all
the silences where past the photograph
The music sings of an unknown chorus, and
foreign background minus noises amid
the swirl and fog of objects tossed throughout
inert gases and emptiness which abound
until we come to this and everything changes
©Dean J. Baker
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