Richie
that stoopy way you had
and your sudden animation
long fingers unfurled
all eyes electric popping
or head lowered
twinkling beneath comedy eyebrows
and when something was shit
you said “it’s shit!”
after the funeral
after the song of the blackbird
we walked on the hill
how vivid that vision
of you turning and smiling
and waving “bye”
you always said it
more like “boy”
it’s never going to be ok
your being gone
but somehow
for some reason
it’s ok
HC: 2005