Frank

 

My best pal dead almost
four years now, though,
after all this emptiness
I don’t know if we really
knew each other at all.
Connected for four decades
and then some. But time
has done its usual cruel
number on memory and
what was/is real, but
whatever, none of it’s
worth spit this cold, rainy
April night I’m remembering
him. All I know is I miss
his voice flying across the line
over those vast decades
of cosmic movement and
his laugh and mine locked
together, leaping at the sky.