In Memory of Kevin Michael Davis, February 16, 1982 – July 23, 2010
Tag Archives: Kevin Michael Davis
Rapids at Box Canyon Falls
a photograph by Kevin Michael Davis, 2/16/1982 – 7/23/2010
Outside of Ouray, Colorado. He would have been 40 years old today. We miss him.
Filed under Art, Photography
Kevin Michael Davis
February 16, 1982 – July 23, 2010
Overlook Tower
Arches of Scoria
Arches of scoria,
bridging eye to eye,
we lean back, falling gently.
Stones like hands
catch our curiosities
at the cusp of a cool wind.
Delicate branches reach down:
fingers wrapped around supports of light
peering through a passage of silence.
Our eyes close momentarily,
and the passage inundates with another kind of light.
The train,
several minutes late – as usual –
leads us to bustling boardwalks and ocean breezes.
Thronged by movement,
silence shies away,
its wisdom stowed between new verbs.
We must pay heed.
For in silence,
the arches collapse into a volcanic flow
and collide into the ocean’s embrace.
Cool winds carry us, as equals, to stark realities.
Frailty inspires us.
Filed under Art, Photography, poems, Poetry
Overview of Chaco Canyon Ruins
Photograph by Kevin Michael Davis (Alazanto)
Thinking of Kevin today
Filed under Art, Photography
By Alazanto, our son, Kevin Davis
Leo
Filed under Art, Photography
Doorway at Chaco Canyon, In Memory of Kevin Michael Davis
Kevin Michael Davis, our son, has been gone for nine years. He took this photo while visiting us while we lived in Continental Divide, NM. We wish we could walk through these doors and see him for at least one more time.
Filed under Art, Photography
End
by Ethel Mortenson Davis
His breathing
became ragged.
It was a rainy day.
At 6:00 p.m.
he passed away.
I was with him,
finally alone,
all afternoon.
I told him I was sorry
he had to endure
this ending.
A woman doctor
came up from
a different floor
to say to me
that when we die,
we choose the people
we want to be with.
Filed under Ethel Mortenson Davis, poems, Poetry
Kevin Michael Davis, In Memorium
a photograph by Kevin Michael Davis, Alazanto
The Design Teacher
by Ethel Mortenson Davis
She taught him
to look at the dragonfly—
its color, design,
and to look at why their wings
moved the way they did.
They searched near
the small pond
and found the black and whites,
the emerald greens,
the slim turquoise and black damsels,
the orange and blues.
All had whirling lace wings
above their heads.
One day they saw
a golden dragonfly,
or so they thought–
so they came to find
the new dragonfly
in the late afternoon light
near the small pond
in a universe
that slipped through
a hole in the basket
never to be found
or picked up again.
Filed under Art, Photography, Poetry
fourwindowspress 