The Aftermath

Testo:

© Grathy
And now the service is over,
and there is a quiet
without all the planning,
the speeches,
and festive toasts.

And now I am left with
the loud silence of your absence.

No more phone calls
not a funny card on a birthday,
or a Merry Christmas from the phone.

Just long-held memories,
some good, some bad,
sometimes remembering
all the good times we had.

All of us are paragraphs,
dissertations in the minds of others,
eventually getting whittled down
into a sentence or two. 

He was so much fun,
look at all he accomplished,
I really miss him,
he died, too young.

Our lives
like a pebble
thrown into the water,
tight circles at first,
moving slowly toward the shore,
until they're no longer visible
anymore.