A Poem for Marthe

The Sound of Blue
for Marthe Reed

Walking through thunder
under a sky

crying for black to break,
I remember blue -

azure hues you blew
from your cupped palms

across the sea
into coils of white foam

fingers at my feet.
I lean into the sea

listening to waters hemorrhage
hymns of "she is no longer."

It begins to rain.

***

The best way I could think to honor your memory, Marthe, was to write a poem.  I hope that wherever you are, you can see the beauty of blue.  And memories.  And feel the love we are sending you.  I'll miss you, my friend.