It would be cheap to write a poem about you.
Say what a fine person you were.
Like an after-thought.
Remark on how good my intentions were.
But I didn't act on the nagging nagging thought.
Got too caught
in myself and the every day world.
While you tumbled down.
Why don't we ask the questions
while we still can?
Why didn't I reach out
and dig deep?
Listen to the repeating messages
in my unconscious and in my sleep.
(I saw you there once staring at me in my dreams.)
The wild west could never be tamed
but it tamed you.
No longer the restless heart and uneasy mind
torn to pieces by the rush of the sea.
Copyright July 16 2012 All Rights Reserved By Author
Melissa A Howells Meloo from her Tilt-a-World
For Ron M.> To the left and off center from one who was also to the left and off-center.
