The song lingers
in my memory,
fresh like the flowers you planted:
raw and remorseful
from all we never got to say,
all we never got to do.
John Denver said it well,
though I doubt he meant
FOREVER
On a bike,
not a jet plane.
How your eyes lit up
like candles after a storm
when you would ride;
not a care in the world.
Smiling eyes
like Kizzy's:
your faithful companion.
That's how I choose to
remember you:
carefree and innocent,
beautifull and young.
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