I figured you’d like it here.
My words escape my lips
as chilled thoughts filtered
through January.
I didn’t know for sure,
but I felt you would like
the backdrop of Mount Ranier
etched in hues through the valley
of the shadow of death and patches
of evergreen trees.
A hall pass and a baseball bat
comfort you, and God’s embrace
saves sinners,
saved sinners like you.
Icy ripples in a stream
through a creek
that blended into a lake.
I don’t see dead people,
not often, anyway.
But I saw you that day.
I saw God wash the pain
from your face.
A smile flickered in my eyes
and a tear reached my lips.
I wish I could’ve been there
to tease you, to laugh
that we can’t cry anymore.
I removed my gloves
to touch you for one last
time.
I closed and opened my eyes.
I unscrewed the jaw, sobbing,
I reached to touch stardust.
I kept my hand there for a moment.
I sighed at the terms of service
that came with life. Death.
I sprinkled your ashes
over dust today.
Mom, well, I think she’ll be fine.
I don’t know, though.
I don’t talk to her anymore.
I was never close
like you were with her.
But I want to believe
she’ll forget you the way
she forgot about me.
Not much ever
went our way, champ.
No one went out
of their way to make
a life less than lifeless.
But here, no one cares
who you were.
A soft breeze
carried memories,
that I couldn’t catch.
From Ashes to Stardust
You protected me,
and I’ll protect your children.
I don’t know how.
But I know I will.
I learned from your lesson.
I’m strong enough to know
I need my wife.
You were the young man
in the older man’s bar, waiting
for your time to die.
Your memory is more
than a Redhook,
or gin over rocks
in a streakless shot glass.
I hold my wife’s hand,
and your young daughter’s
up in my other arm.
Your memory wakes me up
and keeps me from forgetting
that I’m alive,
and how much I have to give
in your peace, I rest.