The song that brought us to embrace
drives silence from this lifeless space
and moves me from my chair to stand
to grasp your hand and dance with you.

But even as the mood seems right
- wine sunset, golden candlelight,
soft breezes flowing through the door -
you're absent as I cross the floor

until I muster memories,
some younger years before disease
when we would waltz beneath the moon
and Januaries felt like June.

Then music soothed us, kept us warm
through autumns, any winter storm.
Now violins dive toward their end,
you're here again, and I ascend.