i still smell like campfire
in my hair and my coat and on my skin
i am breathing
today. slowly. my head in a dusty haze. in a swimming mist.
i am softly. quietly.
last night a long time old family friend..........
[i must admit i do not like the phrase past away. i prefer to say that someone died. i am again going through thoughts in my head about how our society doesn't deal with death and dying in an easy way] .............. is gone.
we saw him at the hospital.
we spoke to him
about the chana we had made - he told me to put in those big black cardamom pods -
about the yellow breasted robin visiting our house that morning
about the pitta bird who had broken a forest snail shell on a rock outside his bedroom window the last time he was home
he laughed and joked
he held tightly onto the palm leaves we had brought
'it's not that hard'