To Andy

Heaven was a midnight chat with Andy
On the Grand Canyon rim.

I can see you:
The chasm is darker than the dome,
Both mute, an unsung hymn.
As I lie on a sandstone slab, the star-salted sky
Outlines your seated silhouette.
Your legs angle in spindly lotus pose.
Your elbows echo your knees when you gesture.

I relive it:
Our laughter at absurd earthly foibles
Floats above the abyss.
We speak of worship and virtue.
We share values and verities,
The valor needed to raise kids
And roadtrip them
Before they reach the age of resistance
Against scenic views and monuments.
Did Adam and Eve thus speak when Cain was ten?
The star dome slowly wheels.
We spend those hours, we and ancient spirits,
In that desert craggy Eden.
Tomorrow we’ll repack our rationales and rations
To camp in another national park.
O Andy, I will always love that night.

Now you live it differently:
You are roadtripping with atoms and angels.
Kiss them for me, and savor love’s eternal scenery.