Alphabet of Days (18)

18.

Requiem

One good friend, the voice
inside my head – even now –
the dropping of the chin, once,
to tell me yes – Hands in slow
motion build their steady talk
around the table like a field
in Vermont – its barn packed
to the rafters with hay
– early fall – the sky
busy with its hordes
of color so deep
there is no end

for Orion Callison

Lines for a friend. I've always missed you, but didn't know it as truth until this moment.