You are a giant

inflated again and again

by processed and salient memories

constructed, shaped

by the careful planning of

passing time

Inside you are the outside

formless, grand

without regard to decency

or privacy, self, tact

without regret


But outside, here inside

welcoming small with affection 

and smiles over history and loss

there is something of the vastness

the incalculable infinite


Now in this whole

the giant wanes

to a tiny cup, a thimble

which holds the barest drop

of half a tear


Not by so many

as by us few

who held it

who shed it

together with you


So, myself

without will to admission

or words of expression

fail to measure so tiny a cup

without precaution or


Knowing and knowing

memory and moment

the ineffable essence of one true tear

though bolstered and brocaded

is undeniable


You are a giant

in all ways and means

built twice, or once, or taken apart

to happy thoughts, to tears

though some forgotten