by normal

here & there i’d see his poetry
he’d probably seen mine in the same places
occasionally i’d read a piece
i don’t know if he’d read mine
i liked his work, good honest stuff

once i thought i’d write him &
tell him so,
i didn’t

the yrs passed
i’d see his poems less
then i didn’t

5 yrs ago i heard he’d died
last wk i had a yearning to read him
again, but
i couldn’t remember his name

remaining only now is the ghost of
his words
now & then i feel them at night

it will be the same with me
it will be the same with most of us