Andrew Whytock

Recollections

We’ve talked the sun up,
settling all the universe
over saw dusted floors.

He’s laughed with me.
He’s cried my tears
in heavy blood drops.

I’ve seen this man,
but perhaps only in dreams?
They could give me sadness
for what is not.

Yet the visions frame
in memory
as the clock strikes
first one, then two,
three.

I know this man.
I have seen him
smile through
a weather beaten face,
I have shaken his hands,
calloused by grace.

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