we made a pilgrimage
to the poppies
and the ghosts didn’t pay us one single visit
not even the echoes of your voice
were left out hanging in the dust of the mountains
or caught us when the meadow leaves tickled us- that was not you either
and when I planted the wildflower in the soil it wasn’t for you, but for myself
but the poppy I picked, that was for you..
call it a tribute, Eostre told me to do
it’s the sentiment of rebirth
that perhaps one day you may come back again
and if you do, I will be very happy to see you my friend.