Posted on March 11, 2015 in Poetry

At the end of 2014, a very close friend of mine lost her son to suicide. Both this young man and the rest of her family helped me through some very difficult and dark times. This is for him.


a shooting star so bright
it flared and died
still climbing
the short side of the sky

a blue diamond in each eye
a crooked hat
a striped tie
and a smile so wide
it could swallow high tide

i didn’t know his demons
but i know the type
cramming black into
every last crack of light
weighing and preying
and staying the night
eating a heart out
from the inside
one hungry chunk at a time

my mind turns back
to that year
of Saturday nights
ending every bloody fight
with those fuckers
face down on mama’s sofa
full of rage and wine

Sunday mornings
there he was
popping up
at the top of the stairs
with his gaptooth smile
swallowing up the water for awhile
bringing me a laugh in
when they were so hard to find

reminding me
the moments between wars
are worth hanging on for

i regret i’ll never meet
the man he would have been
sharp as a razor
fast on his feet
able to swallow
his own raging sea
and press on
from the long side of the sky