A startled phone call from home
and my roommate has lost
another friend
in a car accident

watching her swollen face
and shaking hand
there is nothing to say
in these;
the silent moments
we have been taught so well
each concentrating on our cigarettes
we trim the ash and flick
when there is no need,
staring at the dull burn
the curling smoke
haunting the air above us
like a grief
the silent table
the sudden hole in the night
this is after Dana’s suicide
And Morgan lost to heroin

a year of mourning
and the winter is finally come
to claim the cold within us
to match the sky
outside the open window
in our eyes
the long hollow stare
time has taught
and we have learned
and we are still learning
I cannot miss those I did not know
but somehow this is worse
across the continent
my roommate’s friends may share their grief
spread it thin like a glaze
and count their memories
careful like coins upon the table
with their many drinks and ashtrays full
but not her, she is here alone

I am picturing already
New Years Eve
when I will kneel at the altar of some future
candles lit and whiskey on my breath, to
let loose, like a sigh,
a prayer for the days that slip through our fingers
the quiet moments
where I learn my lessons best