Many gathered around your bed when
You finally fell away.
I was there with them
Behind their circle of grief,
Hurdling through their silent sighs
While they threw their roses of affection.
And I?
Have yet to toss my thoughts away
Or drape my ribbon around a blossom
To settle upon your bed.
Nor have I given you a tender kiss
Or wetted eye
To say a mournful goodbye.
And while they go on to pass you by,
I am here to sit with you and the grass in your lonesome hours
Not the masses who have trickled
Nor those who have dropped their
Budding flowers in the midst of your angel cross.
And I, who have been to your bed
When the wind chased the leaves,
On a midnight run,
Through a summer’s course
And a spring’s malignant temper
Come not with an army of bouquets or ribbons.
But with a smile and intimate conversation
Come not with sorrow and regret,
But for an unforgivable stubbornness to keep a friend alive.