Drove my car on a little trip
to sit with an old friend dying.
We talked in small nostalgic bits
as he readied himself for the sky,
or wherever we go
when we no longer know
the whos or the whats or the whys,
but enough of pernicious wherefores
to grasp at our past for salvation
and failing to hang on
to cry.
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"when we no longer know
the whos or the whats or the whys,"
I enjoyed these lines.
A sad trip.*
Sorrow-filled and poignant.
Say a lots with very little. Nicely done *
Nice use of the journey motif in its compounded "whos or the whats or the whys." Fine piece, Larry.
Yup.