We watched three DVDs of Elvis
on the Ed Sullivan show,
Just to find you waving in the crowd
for a quarter of a second

It was brief
But to see you so young
And gentle and light
Was worth the hours
Of black & white tv
And jokes that are no longer funny

The first night I met you
You asked me if I was a writer
And I asked how you knew

You said it takes one to know one

I read your poetry for three hours
In Indian style on your living room floor
While you ate crackers from a ziplock bag
And talked about the love of your life
And the way his chest felt
The first time you used it as a pillow

You told me not to cry
When Elijah dumped me
You said pain is everywhere,
I'll miss out on life
If I let it consume me

I turned to leave your room
On a random Sunday last December,
It was cold and wet and dark,
And I was tired,
You grabbed my hand
And stopped me in my tracks
You said "learn to relax"
And then you held me still
Until you saw the anxiety
melt out of my eyes

I asked you why you
Bother to keep the car
Even though you know
You'll never drive it
You asked me why
I bother to love the sick
Even though I know
They're dying

You told me "don't close the blinds,
The world is beautiful"
Last time I came to say goodnight

You kept making plans,
Where you'd go after you left here
Even though "here" was certainly
The last place you'd be

I never understood
Why you kept pretending;
Pretending there was more

I get it now, Peggy
I know