The books she loved
and left behind
for me
were the beats of
her heart
scattered randomly
between pages
were small notes
she wrote of
love and hate
a first kiss
lost loves
death and pain
youth spent
choices
fire and sand
trust
tears
traveling alone
pictures
postcards received
a diner
dreams
aging
gracefully
it was like
she was throwing
rocks at the windows
of my thoughts
Roger Singer 