Blue Butterfly

The sun sets with melancholy.
Wondering what it could have done better,
Or worse.
Small things-
Waiting too long for a statue to move.
Crying along to songs your father used to write,
In the day, it was light.
A music shop next to a hospital.
Where you bought that guitar,
And played that last note.
The sun didn't see;
When you told me turn away,
But in the window reflection I saw that pained expression
Written in tablature I'll play once more...
When the sun can see what I've become.
I remember walking down that sterile hall,
Wishing I didn't have to leave you,
Knowing I could have turned around, and I contemplated it,
Something felt so different then.
And when the sun didn't see you in the morning it wanted to tell you:
It remembers you and
it misses you, more than it missed you in the night.