there is more going on here than what meets the eye.  the poem below.

 

her life

read like an epitaph

from seventeen on.

wanting to hear the voice

of the woman,

soon left me on my knees

as evergreens shoulder distance eyes.

but as i begin to follow

the outer edges of the stone

with my shaky fingers,

my eyes trickle like water

seeping out of a rock wall slowly

until they land upon the soil

and is absorbed.

but as the wind

whispers from behind,

feels as if her fingers

run lightly through my hair

as if here to say goodbye.

i stand up and look at the sun –

the blurr just too much.

the tissue left behind

tears touching her name.