Why do you lie there, so pale, so old,
With your legs drawn so close
as if your story has been told
and you do not remember
because you cannot remember
when we talked
over a cup of tea in your kitchen
about our former glory
and successes
and stories that had never been told

We laughed
and we cried
and sometimes we just talked
your trust was never betrayed
nor did it betray
until the very end--today

You may have been an old man
With snowy hair and worry lines
But you were my friend
And friendship is always too young to die.

------

14 September 2004