come nightly to my kitchen window,
thin white line highlights your upturned mouth, returning my
skin illuminates the darkness.
feet, small suction cups, cling to the pane,
your memory of this world.
you breathe your essence into the body of the Tree Frog;
it you that flickers in his eyes?
the lens of a child, you were evergreen.
didn't notice you slowly fading.
I looked back, sage shadows had cast their silvery glances over
suddenly, a fog had eclipsed you .
pleading gaze couldn't lift the shroud.
tiring of watching me prepare dinner, eat and clean up.
convex eyes glisten
ebony marbles that see in every direction.
needn't look back to see behind you;
against the glass,
your cream colored belly, your spirit knows the past.
days turned over like calendar pages flipped by the wind
spent less time at the window.
when I open the blinds
is only darkness.
a gray twilight.