Garth, be still a minute
let me yank out your personality
bit by precious bit
moving inside memory
to where I see you flying the fast track
like an eagle swooping tightly towards earth
in silver-colored streaks.
There is no expanse large enough to hold you.
You cut circles over and over again,
spiraling by confident wingspans
until your signature fills the skies.
If we could see the other side of things,
blue patches in corner pockets of cloud,
perhaps we would step inside the stitching,
pulling it tight around us.
Wind-springing new vistas,
catching the sun,
you are my joy.