A Poem For Tracy

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For anybody who has lost someone, but especially for those that know and for those that remember…

A poem for Tracy:

For Fear’s Friend

clove smoke and cognac
is how I will always remember her
clove smoke and cognac
and moments spent on the roofs
of cars staring at the moon.
the sun was an enemy to
our existence
the vampire and the junky
nighttime and fear’s friend
her voice was like old lace
delicate a little scratchy and
needlessly ornate
her hands were cool and soft
worked like arcane machines
finding ways to make
magic out of garbage
inject joy into arms of pain
she was the sun to my moon
powerful and strong
but the little cracks could
be seen whenever I eclipsed her
whenever I was around enough
for her to quiet and still
in the time we walked together
mountains could fall
or be born
stars could weep themselves cold
supernovas and black holes
these were our playgrounds
cosmic entities summoned
by force of will
we could make time stop
just by breathing
but all time stolen from the universe
must be paid back in full
so she calls me and says
“tonight’s the night
this is the appointed time”
and her voice cracked with
the sound of broken china
with the sound of
a razor blade pulled through dreams
with the sound of
a needle puncturing skin
and this was the time
the stars were right
planets had aligned
and I drove to her
I came to her without
pause or question
for tonight was the night
and I held her there
in the backseat of my car
where we had held each other
so many times before
the vampire and the junky
nighttime and fear’s friend
together at last
quiet and still enough to
hear the sound
of each other’s hearts
I didn’t cry until she died
I didn’t think about all
of the things that we
should have done together
all of those years ago
I didn’t ask why she
had to steal our future from us
I didn’t ask her
what she meant when
at the end
she whispered
“It’s wonderful, isn’t it?”
because it was
and I knew the answers
to all of those questions
where to be found
in the face of the moon
and the scent of clove smoke
and the taste of cognac
everything is pain and fear
until you can embrace that
which is your enemy
she taught me how
to become fear’s friend
and to pass on with grace

It is wonderful
Isn’t it
To fear nothing
Not even the end…

william parham

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Movere voluntatem montes. Sapientiam ut non desiderant.

One response to A Poem For Tracy

  1. i think this is one of, if not the, best pieces of yours that i have ever read

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