I come back to gravel paths,
to woods abutting water.
To graying snow and muddy roads:
it’s life as I remember.

In the icy hawk I hear
a shrill, familiar whine—
the famous rattle of a laugh
breezing through the pines.

Aloft, it echoes from the hills,
it rings anew then fades.
And I, forgetting why I’m here,
turn with searching gaze
As if to find him standing there.
As if to find him there.
As if he’s only hiding—
as if he’s still somewhere.

There’s comfort in the gravel paths,
in woods abutting water.
In graying snow and muddy roads:
a life that I remember.

I tread carefully the salted bricks
that used to lead me home—
that used to lead me to his arms
years and years ago.

The quad is still and quiet now.
Everything seems muted.
I focus in and focus in
but still I am eluded:
the color gone, the sound sucked out,
all life has seeped away.
In the silence, all that’s left
are memories we made.

Now I’ll come back for gravel paths,
for woods abutting water.
For graying snow and muddy roads:
our life as I remember.

09/30/2014

Author's Note: For the best friend I had at an age when--and in a place where--friends were hard to come by. I miss him some nights more than others. CDR 3/5/82-3/7/14

Posted on 10/01/2014
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