Observance

I threaded your words
as the birds do in springtime
and made a space for you.
And when the rains came
I waited for you to return
to that place.
I waited.

I clutch them again, your words.
Tightly bound, even still they
stretch out toward me
call me by all my pretty names
tether my heart with longing
and I wish
you’d had the courage
to set them free
to turn them into the sky
to live them
to spare me them.

I watch the flames engulf
the black swirls
of what you hoped I’d be.

And as they curl up to the sky
I see in the ashes, through the thin veil of smoke,
I see her:
magical
iridescent in the fading light
beautiful
and real

but no phoenix.