Charlie Rose
I went to his funeral today. . .at 56 I am beginning to go through that odd vale where our friends begin to die of natural causes. . .his ticker was bad. i remember when his kids and my kids were small and he told them all about how he had a pig valve put in his heart - they were amazed, eyes wide, the youngest thinking there was maybe this little
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Oh my yes, how painfully true. But I find they lurk, though, and some days, or worse - some nights - they show their faces one way or another.
Your poem has great atmosphere.
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Yes, I will take the lesson (one I know well but seldom acknowledge)
"DO NOT LEAVE THINGS TOO LATE. . ."
As for the rest...
As many doors as we think we have closed, we never give thought to how easily they can be re-opened.
I am wishing you well.
(and hoping your address is the same because it's maple tapping time here FINALLY!)
Be well and know that I will mark the passing of Charlie Rose, if only because he meant something to you - thank-you for allowing me too.
Laureena.
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