Something about you
broke my heart.
Something subtle
stung me
in the way you moved
around that pond
in the brick red morning
like an emperor of ancient Rome,
and I had to laugh
to hide the break, defensive,
always one to crack
a smile whenever somebody dies.

I wonder how we get so old
as I watch your smile
like tea leaves are watched
in the bottom of cracked china bowls,
and imagine I can read your loss
right there in your laughter lines.

It’s so cruel
to see you go this way,
so helplessly,
and I’m not comforted
by how natural it is;
when all what made you
you is escaping
and there’s nothing
I can do but wait
and watch
it pass
into the still
green water.