He was the sky



He spoke with his hands

and moved with his heart.

Kept watch by his soul,

and felt in his spirit.

This quiet man known for his eyes,

endlessly dark and gentle.

Eyes that told so much

that words only proved to reiterate their point.

Eyes held up by a curve of laugh lines that also insisted upon smiling.

And he stood stories above my memory of him.

In my memory,

he was the sky.



24 thoughts on “He was the sky

  1. Oh, I must have forgotten to tell you, that was all worked out. It turns out that I was not the only one. I spoke to a few other bloggers who were going through the same thing, but it was resolved within a few hours. Thank you for wanting to help with that though! 🙂

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