Tom Mallouk writes touchingly of a deceased friend and the small bit of impermanence that remains.
I don’t know how to feel about your voice
still on the answering machine. That moment
months, is a reprieve, your ghost reassuring me
I’ll hear from you soon. Then walking
into grief’s clear glass patio door.
Were the message changed, you’d be silenced
forever and I would not be able to call you
when no one is home: this strange power
to keep you vivid, to not let time diminish
you, to not let go. When your wife changes
it, as she must, I hope I will have learned
the lesson of losing you – to welcome
your haunting, to love my life more.
Interested in submitting poetry to The Good Men Project? Check out our guidelines.
Like The Good Men Project on Facebook
Photo by jypsygen /Flickr