story of the week 42, down a bright way by todd shelbya

Close to the center,
near to where silence
fills my straining ears,
where long years
of searching end,

I find you waiting
my old friend.
You take my hand
and in a glance
know all.

Without a word
down a bright way
we walk.

(in memoriam, Maryalice Clare, friend and mentor)

check it out here,   todd shelbya