I saw you on 21^st Avenue today
Exactly one month since the accident
A year since our trip to the mountains
Spring even smells the same

It wasn’t the same tree
Those buds were already small bursts of pink
These were just appearing white
Naked against the blue sky
Littered with puffs of cloud
You were there then, really there
But you were there today, too
Between the branches; just beyond the blue
Somehow juxtaposed against the
Beginning of new life

Not all buds mature into blossoms
And all blossoms wither in time
But it’s good to know I’ll still be seeing you

Written April 2006 for my friend Emmy, a month after her death.

In honor of National Poetry Month, I’m posting one poem a day in April. For me, poetry is a free self-therapy.