Ode to a Friend

Alone with treasures I have yet to find
Stones and lace, your books haphazardly stacked
I touch each object that you left behind
So delicately like an artifact

The sky retains your color as we lay
In a field of tiny flowers blooming
I do not know exactly what to say
Unreadable expression, fog is looming

Back to the lightning storms from times gone by
And rushing onwards feeling the sea crash
I melt amongst the orchids mystified
See gentle ghosts who quickly turn to ash

Together in Arcadia we are
And high above us hangs a crooked star