Libations drenched souls,
seek solace in forbidden sunshine.
Accepting, avoiding, admitting, the joy I felt
knowing your killer faced his karma in jail.
I need for this to be a pretty words poem.
Filled with butterflies, boom box beats, and beauty.
I need this poem to be a fable of fiction not fate.
I want to write about you turning grey, wise and wrinkled.
Instead you leave me with your laughter.
I need this poem to have mercy.
Let my tears become holy and cleanse the bullet off the blood.
Let my words have power and change the rhythm in time.
The pretty words in the pretty poem will need to be patient.
Today I will simply embrace your everlasting essence.
Remembering the man you were , I welcome home the spirit you are.
We love you. We miss you. We will always remember you…..