The Remaining
Denial overpowers logic
eyes frantically scanning the page
heart beating erratically
prayers replaced years ago with hopes
two gone together
separate but two of us
a year later, coincidence takes two more
swallowed by a desert
that no amount of rain
could have made a garden.
Holding a tin can in trembling hands
I throw the string into the night sky
not praying, but hoping that one of you will catch it
as you sit and watch from above.
The stars embolden me to call to you
I haven’t stopped grieving
and I don’t know if I ever will,
so please keep on shining
and hold the string taut.
Otherwise I cannot hear you laughing
and sometimes it’s just not worth being
the last of five.
Age will steal from you, regardless of whether or not you protect against it. Shared memories make the theft easier to take, but being the remaining member of a group of five childhood friends at any age is simply a challenging pill to swallow.
All the dreams, hopes, and promises to live for one another lie squarely on your shoulders. Bear that weight with a tear in one eye and a thousand-yard stare in the other. Those gone too early deserve it.
American writer
