Poem for a Passed Friend

An old friend of mine passed away suddenly a few months ago, shocking friends, family and coworkers with her too-early departure. She was a light. Everyone says that, and maybe it’s always true. All I know is that it was true for sure in her case.

Here is a poem I wrote a week or so later when the disbelief had morphed into a constant haunting of thoughts, always there underneath and on the periphery. It just happened to be on Valentine’s Day. I can share it now that a little time has passed.

Image


Hollow Valentine


On a walk,

On a half-shrouded February night,

I saw mostly bones and skulls in the half-light

It’s been a time for death

Lately

What does it mean to live a life

And then not be here

Anymore



I hear the coyotes whoop,

And one by one, the calls of dogs

Drift to me from hidden spaces

Across the snow



I see the winking light above tracking

Mechanically slowly

Across the patchy pale dark

And the muted starfield beyond



When I was last on the long night flight

Looking endlessly down into the light-sprinkled blackness,

I imagined people in their cozy homes

Or driving around on highways and roads



But I never imagined a stranger unseen

Miniscule in the far below on tiny feet,

With his thoughts searching out and alone

To the distant empty reaches



– Steve Dahlberg 02-14-2012

Advertisements

About stevedahlberg

Moderate extremist, technology-obsessed Luddite.
This entry was posted in Narrativity and tagged , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s