Un espoir merveilleux

I keep thinking about 

your yellow gardening hat

and the way you used to tip 

the olive green watering can over

ever-so-slightly 

so the water would 

splash my head --

to help me grow,

you said.

And I can almost hear

your sweet, strong voice

say my name when I walked

 into your room and surprised you

even though

I think you always expected me,

somehow --

I hear your delight, 

even now.

Oh, I haven't had a tea party in ages

but I remember how 

to make a proper pot

and how to hold it 

as I pour

and how you

take [took] your tea --

and not just becase

you take [took] it like me.  

Firmament

I never really knew
 there were
so many shades of blue
(and degrees of separation
from you)
But
I have fallen
(or should I say risen?)
 in love
with these  wide skies
painted
mano-a-monochromatically
at midday
and reinvented each evening
 in hues
so variant and brilliant
and matchless
I stand
speechless 

in the best of ways
and humbled at the
absolute extravagance
(and bereft
because
it too will leave)

Still I stand
firmly rooted in
this transient
red dirt
having
never known

there were
so many shades of blue