Since Poem by Cheryl Renaud

I know that in each later day,
voices can sicken the air for you

I can talk and watch
the mirror cloud before me

and say nothing, but
of the black dot I see in
the middle of a piece of white paper

then your voice enters my life
I let your music warm me within and without

and how can I forget the
admission of your stern lips
the way it would set upon my eyebrows
without telling me:

your happiness is
the white lake around you-
a bracelet's fire

and why can't you see this?

if not in me?

I will play good music
and remember God for you

where is God? - wherever

I am on my knees

in the repose of your
silent, strong arms.