After Solmaz Sharif
A red slash
across a poet’s first draft.
You always
told the truth, my friend,
and for that, I am grateful
until the end.
A paper airplane
that stays afloat a moment more
than you hoped.
A shout of joy, a laugh
for fun. I thought our life
had only just begun.
A thin scar
like a pencil’s sketch,
down your cheek and
across your neck.
You wore it proudly, I remember,
love. I see that pride in the
mourning dove.
A ballad humming to a quiet close,
playing softly
as you lay in repose. Dance
with me, darling, the vinyl
is geared. I don’t understand why
you’ve disappeared.
An ocean wave like
a ghost’s embrace – blue and cold as a
dead man’s face.
Hold me, love, my dearest friend.
Hold me, hold me
until we meet again.
