Missing a friend...


Alan left this morning. Saying goodbye stinks.


The Quarter That You Gave to Me

The day before your leaving
grew warm in my hand when we sat on the swings,
creating our own motions with our feet in the sand.

A little movement is a good remedy for the stagnant,
for stationary souls resisting forward progress.

I tried to laugh out loud, twisting myself under knots and releasing the tension in the chain,
letting centrifugal force push out my heart’s pain.

I rubbed George’s head clean with my thumb.
My own head felt numb,
and I was glad that you were talking so that I could listen
and watch the quarter glisten.