I don’t know why

but it got to me

that you didn’t see Terry

before he died.

I knew that you had an issue

with death, you had lived with it,

a day to day companion, an image

in the corner of the room

whenever you thought of a brother,

one not destined to be like you,

vibrant, easy going charm,

a devilish smile, rakish

but with sound heart beating,

but not for the dead,

it got to me because I realised

no matter how close we were

my friend, boy hood pals,

teenage high spirits,

that somehow deep down

I knew when the time eventually

ticks round to me looking at death

as she smiles sadly, her veil lifted

and revealing a face I once knew,

the comfort of beauty,

that you will not sit with me

and watch me converse with the silence.

 

Ian D. Hall 2018