Photo by S. Auberle
WHISTLING IN THE DARK
Aren't we all?
News of a friend's death today,
so many plans we had
Anna said, in a letter last week,
thanking us for being in her life.
Oh god, another margarita please,
yes and salt, lots of it.
We look at each other,
you my good, good friend,
scared silly, but silly takes over
sometimes you have to
and snow beats on the window
lightning, rain, sleet, back to snow.
We devour chips and salsa
and you tell me of your funeral bash
you have the music, the food, the party planned
Andrea Bocelli--Time to Say Goodbye
do ya think that would be over the top?
And we burst into another round of giggles.
Wind shakes the old building and
I debate the merits of cremation vs. worms,
wonder just how many parts of myself
I can divide, to be in all my beloved places.
The bar fills up with winter freaks like us
stamping snow from their boots
beer and margaritas flowing
like the still hot blood in our veins.
We eat, we giggle, we watch
the storm fighting to get at us.
I think of Anna, throw salt over my shoulder
knock on wood, cross my fingers, pray.