When someone dies are they really gone?

The apples in the garden miss your callused touch,

and the Earth, it seems, can’t weep enough.

Forever feels more real

than the rain does. You’re gone

but the story lives on

in a bed of neurons

you once said, electrical impulses

with enough power to light

entire universes. I wish you were here

but you are there where stars like you

are meant to burn like diamonds studded

in the sky, your bright

presence forever my light.