Death Of A Friend
I read your obituary this morning.
It said you passed, and something about eternal rest.
I thought we agreed that when you were ready,
You would summon me.
I heard nothing, not a peep or a whisper.
You are the third person this month.
Of all three, you said,
You would summon me.
The other two left without fanfare
They faded, like the morning fog on a warm spring morning.
I expected more from you because
You would surely summon me.
When it’s time for me to leave,
I will have few friends.
I don’t intend to announce my exit.
When the universe summons me.
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