There’s a moment between
normal reality and
a world crashing event.
In this moment, he is not dead.
Not to you,
not yet.
But you feel something.
You know this is the calm
before the storm.
The air is beautiful
and serene,
but there is a foreboding presence
lingering.
And then comes the rain.

One less person,
who floated around life
in a constant fog
before
finally
drowning.

April showers bring May flowers,
but what do storms in February bring?
Frozen ground that must be
dug up
for him to be
laid to rest.
He never got much
rest.