Trigger Warning
and finally, I got to read
his little book of poems,
after he’d paid the balance
and had his proofs back
from the printer.
I was surprised. they were good.
quite beautiful.
an elegy, winding
to his wife
like thread between
the fingers, gone
these last
5 years. his wife, and mother
of my closest friend. and usually
I don’t like it
in poetry
where each line
starts with capitals, but here
it seemed right,
somehow. like a folding
feeling, all deliberate. fine stitching
drawn
from second hand
cloth.