it seems a tad distasteful
that raised wine glasses
clink for Amy
especially when her crusade
against alcohol addiction
became a lost cause
ten years gone while our
bluebird of happiness swings
in its usual place
suspended
from a central wooden beam
over our summer deck
silent appreciation
as back to black plays its dark
lament
as lantern light flickers
honeysuckle vines shoot strands
from beehive chaos
saluting the mistress of song’s
creative vowels
in scented respect