My Friend, Dear Friend

For Linda

Grief is a slow-motion
swim upstream,
a slow-rising, ebbing,
re-rising tide
toward what
we can’t

Time is its own slave
and master,
running the show,
while you shine through, dear,
like the glass
you’ve cut
and welded

with those narrow hands.
I know your time
is coming, love.
And your new what
will be beautiful.
Like you, beautiful.
Like you.