As in a teardrop fall,
The crystal world of a little boy
Now meanders, earth-bound,
From instinct-necessity
To the dirt
Which in solitude now lies

Encapsulated glories
Of the life evaporated,
And the enigma
Of grandest proportions
Now seem simple, minute

Sun beams 'twixt his lifelines
Where smiles are seen,
More likely bonded in idea
Than adhered in circumstance

This liquid life,
Tales be told,
Transpires during the journey

Though in substance, mundane,
And of necessity quite lost,
A salty residue reminds me of when,
Times were times and time was then

05/20/1999

Author's Note: This is kind of a weird little thing that I stumbled upon... I wrote this poem in 1999 about the death of a fictional young man, then in college, my roommate died of complications from CMV on 02/20/2001, and I gave this poem to his family. It somehow seemed like the fitting tribute, as if I had known all along or something...

Posted on 06/17/2005
Copyright © 2026 Daniel Peterson