Requiem by Wyatt Underwood

a friend's funeral happened
a thousand miles away
a dozen people held umbrellas
rain fell desultorily
a man who meant well
spoke of a life he hadn't known
I wonder what I would have said
we'd not been close nearly ten years
she loved life when I knew her
rode horses and climbed rock
sat on a cliff's edge and laughed
until I grimaced and joined her
trees I knew grew fifty feet tall at least
looked like dollhouse toys
"I'd take the fast way down"
she laughed, "if I could make the stop soft"
she grinned at me
"I couldn't stand to miss tomorrow,
what all might happen?"
but last week she put a gun into her mouth
and blew the pain away, so close friends say
I hope her way made the stop soft

Wyatt Underwood © 2011