Max: November 16

It is now the passage of a full year

His gentle brown eyes still echoing dear

I crave the fierce pulse of breathing near

Flickering memory a shame my fear

That you could charge the Ramble new

Bounding the rocks of the pumping stream

Now pale are the dawns brittled by dew

The hollowed log tunnels a distant dream

And yet, there is the remembered stride

Galloping the leaves thick coppered high

The smile of a pink mouth opened wide

And the happiness of a full evening sigh

Would that I cradled you at moment’s end

And eased you down the last onyx bend