Death of a Friend (For Jeff; three years on)

A cold night,
an email,
a phone call,
a speeding car;

finds
a home,
sees
a policeman,
speaks to
a chaplain;

her grief,
spilling
out his hands,
down his arms,
across
the floor.

A chunk of cheddar,
aside a knife;
a few crumbs,
on
a cutting board,
on
a counter,
in
a kitchen.

A lion,
and
a man,
once
a lover,
once
a son,
once
a friend,

alone,
in
a chair,

by
a desk,
by
a cup,
cold
and still;

by
a window,
by
a river,

flowing into
a bay,
flowing into
an ocean,
flowing into
a white moon.

Copyright 2019 by C. Max Schenk - all rights reserved - like warm memories for cold nights