“What can be explained is not poetry.”
— W. B. YEATS
I cannot explain how 11 years have passed without you on this earth. Are you really here and we just can’t see you? I don’t know why dragonflies still come to me, seemingly just when I need them. Are they you or do I just want to believe they are? How can it be that your memory is still cherished by so many people? I am humbled when those who loved you see a dragonfly and let me know they are holding you in their hearts. It is poetry. You are poetry. You are remembered. You are here.
