…and I shall miss you,

not in the wariness of dark

when shadows limn the tired soul,

nor when birds fold their

fragile wings to rest;

not in the dream world

of unreal and fleeting forms,

But I shall miss you

when shafts of red and gold

snuff out the candled sky.

For, like the morning, ever new,

you warmed my spirit

in your friendship-glow.

Oh, yes, I shall miss you

in a secret, selfish way,

yet, I will be less lonely

than if you had not passed my way.

Mary K. Swank, May, 1965