Sometimes
I’ll stop talking all at once,
Just to see what the silence feels like.
Is it still uncomfortable?
Or does she understand
That there aren’t any awkward silences anymore.
They’re all very comfortable.

I grabbed Dad’s favorite rock
and I jammed it
in the loose earth
near the head of where
my dear old friend lay buried

and I thought I was done
Crying
then my brother came home
Early
and the whole damn family
gathered round and
had a cry again

And the collar’s in the shed
with the leash, it’s in the shed
and I’ll miss my dear friend dearly
underneath Dad’s favorite rock –
the one that’s actually
an ancient tree.

(Goodbye)