The Thunderbolt

where you are
if you can see us
i'd bet you'd be amused

me writing poems
about missing you

you'd hope they'd
be good ones

but we both know
how limited this
thinking is

there's not
a lot of material

left to ponder
and wax on about

the rest of it
tends to prattle
gradually become

a thousand misremebers
flawed all saying

we are the essence the
pith of what was

representing
compelling nothing

..

but the
electric essence
of you the boom

the crash
the explosion and flash

as nature
the thunderbolt

this was you
and it is burned
into my heart


-----

for Robert Funge