It was a funereal afternoon.
My thoughts were like waves that bled
into a wash, to a windswept cadence.
My body heaved with sorrow as
I started moving to my heart's song.

I imagined him watching me,
and my movements took on a depth
as if I was interacting with him.
My arms swept across my chest and through the air;
like the ocean liner gliding through water.
The way he brushed my childhood tears away.

Turning around at a tipped angle
represented me talking to him.
Extending my arm and opening my folding fan
told of my gratitude in his presence.
And when I snapped my fan shut in the end
of the dance; it is only to note,
Nothing in life mattered more than him.