“For Tom, in Colorado” by Sharon Rauenzahn
You see the world from here, atop your rock,
Spread wide before you in the summer haze.
So guard this memory, and pray it stays
To comfort you, when like a rust-bound lock,
Time’s distance bars this beauty from your sight
And you must dwell below, confined to earth.
I cannot measure what your heaven’s worth:
Though swearing not to leave without a fight,
Yet you’ll go quietly, and quiet weep
For days spent far from home, and endless nights
Spent staring, not at stars, but at the clock
In some hotel room, wishing you could sleep.
No earthly peace awaits, where you must fall;
You’ll carry it within, or not at all.
July 23, 1993 (rev. 11/25/2016)