Member Poem

These are the last words
I will ever speak to you.

I tried to say them on the
Thursday before you died.

But I managed so little,
and mangled most of it.

So. I want to stay up
till 2 A.M., playing Boggle,

talking, eating, laughing,
the way we did years ago,

our young children asleep
in the room next to us.

I want every piece of fun
we ever had: movies, hikes,

s'mores, shopping, sharing
cherry pastries at Panera's.

I want to thank you for
treating hot dogs as a feast,

for treating me as part
of your family,

for seeing in me not a
stunted, shabby shrub,

but a bonsai tree:
branching and beautiful

as you were, even on the
Thursday before you died.

(First published in the Pittsburgh Post-Gazette)