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[anaisa]

I've come to reminisce, retracing all
your steps beneath the symmetry of pines
and palms that colonnade near Angwin Hall.
The old rectangle chapel face aligns
its sacramental windows with the hills,
where sixty-years ago, inside those white
washed plaster walls your faith was found. Shade spills
like balm against the beveled glass. This fight,
to capture every yesteryear you've owned,
leaves me undone. The dormitory stairs
of walnut, tap an ageless chant— intoned
with all your giddy dreams and girlish prayers.
The thought of you remains an oblique ray
of fleshless gold, that burns my hours away.