You were born on the cusp
of the earth's yearly turning,
that bitter twist
toward cold and death.
We call it fall,
but you lifted us up
with your feverish excitement
and passion for truth.
Your seasons were marked
with love and devotion.
But you -
always searching, never finding,
unable to bear
the full fire in your mind -
found comfort at last
in arms cold as ice.
Winter, your womb
at the end.
In memoriam -J.D.D. September 1, 1978-January 31, 2006