Today's Sad Poem!

Behaving Like a Dead Friend

You left without leaving much behind—
In the way of material things, held in the hand.
There was no note, of course, just the news
You never woke
Up for work.


 Nevertheless here.
 In bits and pieces, thrown out into the wind as it rises.
And like air, always working from the inside out, uneasy.
A pair of glasses looked through—and each thing in the world
Is a picture of you.

I cover the side streets near your old house,
That place at the curve in the hill.
I hold you in my heart’s deep pocket,
An image burned clear in the brain—
A song overplayed like we did
On that day with the sun
Streaming through
All the cuts in the groove
That burned as we sang
In that long ago room.