For Louis

The headstone is in the corner of the small plot just behind the tiny church with the white steeple it’s edges are chipped and worn and the flowers in front of it have lost most of their petals and I’m standing there in my fine black suit and I can’t think of anything to say right now not for a lack of trying just seems to me that I can’t say anything without feeling like a fool.... I remember that last time together you looked so weak and helpless unlike the way I’ve always known you seeing you wrapped up in the blanket most of your muscle withered away feeling the cold run through you and all I could think about was you standing out in the night snow arms folded in defiance wind rustling the short sleeves of your t-shirt and seeing you so warm made the frigid air disappear.... I remained strong that afternoon and you fed off my strength just as I fed off your warmth and I gave you one more reason to tough it out.... I heard about you crying that last day not able to work like you used to unable to get the mule working not able to toil the earth like before and maybe it was just too much for you to slow down.... And it’s been so long since I’ve paid a visit and I know I neglected to see you but you haven’t disappeared from me and you’ll always be along for the ride and I hope you understand that I don’t have to come to the carved up stone to pay my respect..... Written November 6th, 2001 © on Nov 06 2001 12:53 PM PST   0 • 1