For a long time, I do not open
his closet door.
But today is different, today
I do.
Today as if it were just a closet,
I turn the knob
as if it were a small dark room
for storage
not a passageway.
Today I open it prepared
to face his lumber shirt,
his jeans, his brown leather boots.
Today I am not prepared to see him
in a flash of light
that makes his hair glow
like a halo.
How tall he seems, how straight,
how unbent
just like before,
but silent, so silent
as never before,
how he seems to float
on a sky above a sky.
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