To Lose a Friend

I remember you, now

Though I don’t see you anymore.

Memory is the only choice.

The time on Easter when you ate one of the eggs us children ran searching to find

Or when you sat in my guitar case as I sat sullenly plucking at the strings, determined to learn.

And when I, a toddler, you, a puppy, fed you out to my own bottle,

Because you weren’t just man’s best friend, my best friend. You were my brother.

You liked to chase chipmunks and salamanders, and chickens, when you got the chance

though it was a rare occasion that you caught one.

You always rolled, belly up, asking for us to pet you, and would snap at us if we did not obey, or stopped too soon
But I didn’t mind.

The emptiness is odd- for now I catch myself searching for you before I remember that you’re gone   and wish to hear the sound of you scratching at the back door.

I wasn’t here when you finally lost your breath, and passed on to whatever lies next.

Maybe that’s why it still doesn’t seem real, though I know that you’re gone- but not forgotten.

For I am taking the hole in my heart formed by your death
and filling it with the memories of when you lived-

because I still love you.