I watch your poem go down in the west <br />And know old friends are gold without a doubt. <br />I clasp your hand to wish you my godspeed. <br />Our epitaph is written in your eyes. <br /> <br />White gulls of snow are swirling through the air. <br />Perhaps, in token of all mortal flight. <br />I will not call after departing wings. <br />Good-bye is such a final winter word. <br /> <br />Somehow the moment seems so windowless. <br />I cannot see tomorrow through its panes. <br />And yet I cling with simple childlike faith <br />To my belief that warmth can never die. <br /> <br />Dedicated to those who have lost friends and loved ones to cancer. <br /> <br />Copyright, Sandra Fowler,2008<br /><br />Sandra Fowler<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/all-mortal-flight/
