in a breeze or a touch from a limb against my skin.
Not of here, somewhere in between you and me,
a place I only get glimpses of when you are near.
I see your gift when an insect appears,your message in a penny heads up.
I no longer question. To be a part of this-- I feel,
or you will be gone before I have a complete thought.
I hear your voice when the door opens, feel your presence.I heard what you told me when I walked in the dark wet night,
though no words were spoken.
My tympanic drum is tuned to your whispers.
I sense you in every way..gentle and true
I don’t share except with those who love you, too.
I would not dishonor you or your memory