Peace, feather boa-like, wraps round us,
Separate but equally soft. Stilling as snow.
Nothing external matters now.
With eyes turned inward, we embrace our own downiness.
Tentative tenderness once given to each other… Now brought back to self.
We glance up one last time.
Our spirits descend and give thanks through shining tear-filled eyes.
There are no words.
All’s been said. All’s been done.
Love insists that we move on.
Photo & Poem by
U.K. © 2011