So many of them gone, now. Hanging silent on the refrigerator, Each one a signpost, a chapter, Deeply important to this unfolding story, Now but a trace, a fleeting image, Woven into the fabric of my dreams, My journey incomplete in their endless absence. What I have been filtered through, Such ecstatic spinning beneath the endless moons! Many have orbited my life, Many more have achieved escape velocity. I stand upon the seven hills in wonder, Having walked with each Across our randomly allotted time, To be shaped again each day by earth and sky, And the words each uttered beneath the Sun — Ever in my heart. Him, with his music, Her overflowing, tender joy, The multitude of gifts I have received, What gratitude I am blessed to hold dear!
Notty Bumbo is a writer and poet in Fort Bragg, California. He is published in Telling Our Stories Press, Peacock Journal, Calabash Cadence’ Taisgeadan, & others.