There was a man
He lived across from us
His spirit and smile lifted me up.
He was joy incarnate.
I hardly knew him, but I knew him.
I loved him. He died recently.
When I paint, I overlook his house
And I feel his presence
like a spark of love in our garden
This one is for Italo.
We used to leave him gifts on his doorstep
He used to make us jam.
He was kind.

Is it half past thing?
Or quarter to more?
I’m not sure, if I’m to meet you
This day
or before.

Either way
I’ll see you in my dreams
Outside of time o’clock
where eternity seems

so real and free
where stars speak clearly
and temporality
just ceases.