See how the fog comes,
eyeball white across the water,
so the lake is just memory,
just sound.

We both came here once,
me in this water, you in yours,
yet we swam together my soul
and I.

Now the clouds rumble
their full bellies before release,
and rain falls down like failed snowflakes,
spitting.

The urn in my hands feels heavy,
but there’s so little there within.