Is It Safe To Fly With Gestational Diabetes

to her

.

I still have so many things from her _ so many images and memories
his laughter and his anger _ tears and smiles

I still have that we were _ rebels and his follies extreme
the golden age _ one you care when you do not want to grow

I still have it to his heart wide open the human condition
his tracks written and painted on the walls of my house full



I still have his face that no longer age __ our eternal friendship
those that cross oceans and cold black death colorless

I still have it to so little _ a heart folded in a handkerchief
a bit of light shining like a straw fire in the heart of the night

a small way through the vineyards where every stone remembers its not
books on every page the marks of his fervent reading

a holiday card pinned to the wall and crying freedom of the wave
a small red-headed pin distilling a few drops of our blood

An invisible thing that leaves me more - and - embraces me and hugs me
this thing pure and unnamed _ sweet and hot as the hand of God

(Painting: Agnes. L)