They should still be preschoolers
singing in the children’s choir
round-faced cherubs, both
ever so serious.
children on vacation
tasting salt on their tongues, brine in the wind
with sand on their toes, in their hair
eating pickles from a jar.
teenagers at Bojangles’
laughing, cutting up
marching in the band, going to the prom
still singing the old hymns together.
college kids, going their separate ways
friends temporarily parted
by finding their own paths, until
one ended on a fresh spring night.
She wrote that he was part
of her favorite childhood memory.
On the eve of her funeral, he dreamed
he heard her singing
of the ocean.
One year ago today, my younger son (the Cadillac man) lost his childhood friend in an accident.
She was eighteen.