Too young! Well, yes, isn’t that the way
It seems to us when we hear a friend is gone.
The scythe swept close yet we ourselves remain
to drink our coffee and put on mourning clothes.
We’ll gather in a place we loathe to go.
We will see familiar faces in those folding chairs.
We’ll kneel before a casket made of bronze
And offer an inadequate childhood prayer.
In time, we all come to terms with our grief.
Experience has taught us nature’s way-
Our memories are like sand the tides subsume.
Not gone, exactly, submerged, hid from the light.
to surface like a dream in the dead of night.
Our friend was our companion on this journey,
Good company, a source of strength and humor.
Our paths diverged in a dark stretch of woods.
Our friend has reached the destination sooner.