Purple Flowers a Year Later

I went to visit your flowers
the way some people visit graves.
They were beautiful
just like last year
when they arrested my grief
while I stood crying
in the chilly October rain.

I went to visit them because you
are occupying my mind
the way fog occupies the morning air
this time of year.

You and your life
and your loss
have left me with a need
to feel my own life.

I walk in loops
until I become breathless
and satisfied
that I am still here.

I wake up terrified in the night
of something unknown and unreachable-
but as my heart pounds in my chest,
I know that I am still here.

And then there are the flowers,
the purple flashes of light
against rainy October skies.
Last year they belonged to you-
reminding me of the flashes
when you were here with us
and not lost to delusions or death.

This year, I sought them for both of us.
A reminder of you and those flashes.
But this year for me too-
to know that I am still here.

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