Poem: Passage / Time

A poem about the passing of time, and the changing of friends.

he lived in a house in the country
all alone. Four bedrooms, and one
was just for the rubbish, said it
didn’t smell so bad when you
closed the door. Never had any visitors
(see above).

Reckoned he spent whole nights with
the stereo on, out on the porch with a
drink in hand. Said it felt good just to
scream. No one could hear him out there.

That’s when I knew he was ‘gone’ - the
friend I’d had. Past tense. Things were
now very tense - whenever he passed. I
wanted him gone, though not like that.
It was so clear that he was drowning…
(sea above).