I remember
the icy December air
that grazed my nose then disappeared
like a dream, the gradual shock of waking
to a crowd of silhouettes
a palette soft and soothing
the hushed hues that washed away
the words and faces
left a faded stain
on an immaculate sheet -
an echo of our exquisite sorrow
the manicured trees
and balustrade of white stone
framed with a magnificent sense of melancholy
the breathtaking vista laid out before me
oh what a perfect place it was to part
Basilica of the Sacred Heart
