Have I said to you everything
that’s needed to say?
While the words pull at me,
a spent cigarette smolders in the safety-tray,
a car moves, screeching, up the road,
a kid confronts the probable conflicts of the street.
Have I told you of all I worry about?
All the worries of my mis-spent youth,
calling back to you;
recalling the presence of doubts and fears,
and the unasked tingle up the spine:
A darkened vision of the dead man,
lying next to a coffee table.
The memory of a loss conjures these things.
I’m clasping my chest, recalling the absence,
the shock, I felt
on a day like any other:
That empty chair,
tugging at me,
in its solidity;
the silence, encompassing the circle
of a hard lesson learned.
`x~William ~copyright, 03/06/09.