We never met

yet we connect.

Our bloodlines,

your brush strokes

are ties that bind.

We walk the same path

at different times

You in your century

I, in mine.

Do our steps match?

From school to park,

from books to beach,

To walk and wonder

decades later your

pictures still speak.

I hear you in stories of

students and friends

bridging past to present,

a distance immense.

Do my words reach?

I see you in trees,

rocks, mountains and sand

you captured on canvas

nature surrounding

this island, this land.

I feel you in colors,

mostly shades of gray,

from lighter to darker,

windblown leaves and waves.

A palette of emotions

shifting time and space.

These people who knew you,

this endless landscape

are ways to connect

what was broken by death.