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Poem

“There is no one to blame
No one to blame. . .” I used to; sometimes I still do,
Whisper these words over and over
On nights like this endless eve
Telling myself, telling myself

The night is silent and still
Like the moon and the stars
The very heavens are quiet tonight
Quiet like his soul through these leaves
Do they know?
The stars I mean
Do they know of the chasm across my heart?
Can they see the rent through my soul?
And do the stars
Do you cry out at night in frustration, horrible sadness?
Do you scream out your soul?
Because my friend, her son is dead tonight
Do you hear me do you care?
That his mother sits alone
Crooning softly holding his empty shirt
Like she holds the memories
Of his smiling face
His laughter

Does any of this matter to you
As you sit there gazing down at me, at her, at us?
And when his light vanished from our lives
Did you notice?
Did you notice his light missing from the universe?
Did you feel it like I do, like she does, we do
Like his mother does, always will
Like emptiness inside her womb
The sudden and irrevocable gulf inside our lives
Did you feel the hole
My friend, her son
His life
Left behind

There is no one to blame no one
For the death of my friend
So why do I blame myself?
 
Why do you?
Why do you wonder once more all over again?
What more you could have done
Why do I?
I know why, I know, I do
I do

I love my friend
I miss you
She does, we do

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