This is a poem written for an old friend Rich Kooyer. He passed away this week in a manner that was as sudden as it was unexpected. I'm still trying to process my feelings through the shock. With his passing, I am feeling the silence after the note - the symphony of his life. He was a good friend - always a good friend - even when I was not. I will remember him for the rest of my life.
this past Spring evening
I went for a walk.
before leaving I had been troubled
by some piece of
television news
and the sky above seemed
like a furrowed field
rows of red sky
broken by thin banks of clouds
or perhaps a crumbling wall.
I thought
we are all that remains of this world
we live in the ruin of yesterday.
50 miles away
-though I wouldn’t know it
‘til morning - my friend lay dying.
38 years old.
strange that a man who was all heart
would be betrayed
in the final treacherous act
by what was revealed
to be a mere human muscle.
here is one thing that time
has taught me about both lovers and old friends.
if you loved them
-even years after-
when you think of them
it’s like a chord
or a bell being rung
in your body.
the silence after the note
-if they are absent-
is its own nameless pain.
if you never loved them, no matter
what you called them, or the words
that you spoke or the promises made,
though they made you laugh or cry
or swear or if you fought with them or shared
an apartment or just a meal
-if you never loved them
when they are absent
you simply never think of them at all.
