beautiful boy
with dark lashes and brown eyes
my first best friend
we played in innocence
held hands and walked in stride
you were sunshine, in my lonely world
of beaches and butterflies
endings
February
You began the conversation with
“We need to talk”
but talk is the last thing I wanted
I knew it signaled the demise of the silence
that held things tightly and neatly in place
It would begin the process of unboxing
which is messy, in words
Our winter come to end
in dignified formality
you were gone
Ghost
The taste of dark brew
conversations overheard
from a wooden chair at the coffee shop
where the clatter of glass
a laugh a smile
all of these are reminders
of what was had and what is lost
and of the fleeting, dizzying pace of time
all things go on
as I go on
your ghost
like fading photographs
my company
