I am not sad because I miss you.
But I have found a starling that the cats caught
and lifted his mangled body to feel
needling bones and slick feathers.
I have seen daylight spread over empty tulip fields.
I have made snow angels in a housing estate.
I have seen the fountains of Paris and on them
floated small wooden boats with red paper sails.
I have dreamed of bus windows.
I have watched interviews with no sound and felt
that sudden quiet loss, and turned from you
like a boulder from a tomb,
like the virgin lake reeds turn from something
they loved once and love no more.
These are my sadnesses.
I lift and cradle them like broken birds.
I have always been beyond your saving.