With the warm presence of a friend returned.
The fire made cozy chatter as it burned,
And reared a tent of light in that lone place.
Then Jamie set about to bathe the face
With water from the spring, oft crooning low,
“It’s Jamie here beside you—don’t you know?”
Yet came no answer save the labored breath
Of one who wrestled mightily with Death
Where watched no referee to call the foul.
The moon now cleared the world’s end, and the owl