“And in the end, the love you take/Is equal to the love you make.”–Paul McCartney

Icebergs–there is always
so much we cannot see
or know of one another
even of ourselves.

I would think those
with imagination, love,
faith, desire and perspective
likely knew me best.

In the time it took
to understand, accept,
love and appreciate,
they knew who I was.

So I probably gave back,
yes, the empathetic poet
and long-time lover
who loved most freedom.

That freeing of self and others, too
from this freezing limit and that
as we found our ways
with the grace and price of love.

And the power of words,
an articulate sharing of whatever
consciousness we lived
as those truths of our experience.


As close to a premature self-bestowed memorial poem as I care to get….

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