A close friend of mine died this week. His name is Will McDermott. I wrote a poem to remember him.
My friend Will died today.
He died on Friday but I found out
today and so became real to me.
I felt him go, like a great hand
wafted the memories of him out of
He had memories of me, of a different
time, and me as a different person.
That part of me went with him.
We keep each other alive.
A boy died today,
and the great world spins- and spins- and spins- and spins.
The sun came up this morning. He died on
Friday and I didn't find out until
The world exhaled; right before it
takes another breath, a life goes out.
A million more pour in, but I don't
know any of their names.