Tim's Step Stool

Sunlight warms its wood

 - loving strokes in the shape of hands

whorls of light layered brown and gold 

like gleaming hazel eyes.

Scars stipple the skin of the legs and bench -

Pale, rippled,

etching deep the satin flesh.

Still standing  solid and certain beneath garlands of devil’s ivy- -Thriving writhing vines -   a wreath for worn edges -  verdant  with unapologetic life A gleaming presence in his eternal absence.

35 years gone.