one more day

it's not that i don't dream, it's that last night's dream was so close to my heart, so much the mysteries of suzanne's life revealed, that i am still somewhat in awe. i don't really believe dreams are telling us things, yet i do. especially, like last night, when there was a friend there whom i miss.

get over it, shake it off, keep moving. i tell myself, and i will. but i've had the bud of a poem in me for days, perhaps it will come, perhaps not. but the dream was so real. i was there. so was my sister, so was my friend. i was there i tell you. i was there.

but i'll shake it off, i'll move on to the next thing at hand. i'll busy myself with the work of the day and push the dream from my mind. force it out. there are many other faces and places vying for the time i dedicate to remembering this friend now gone.

there is plenty to do. new places to see, new people to meet. new poems to write. why then am i mired down in this?

because it is how i'm wired. i was up very late talking to my sister, who said,

you really miss people when they go away.

she said,

i'm glad when people go away.

one less egg to fry,

i said

i think because i find my rootedness, my home in folks, i ache when the void is evident. and this isn't just some anonymous person who wafted away, this was a dearly loved friend. and today, i'm just missing him.