Gone Like That

His brother, a few years younger

went like that! snapping his fingers

icy winds escorting a tear down the canals

of his weathered sad-black face

‘Daddy taught me not to fear death’ he said

tear swirling down gray graveyard road.

Saxophone street blaring

his brother had a heart attack

gone like that

Mine they went the hard way man

hooked up to yellow bedbug machines

antiseptic corridor dreams

Gone like that

sailing through heaven’s red green streetlights

And here below on heartache row

anchors of peace float like detritus

in the lost pages of existential’s sweet tucked-in bedtime

‘Well I’ll see ya’ the smiling sad friend walks away

let’s play some music

soon…

Poem Michael D. Amitin,

Photograph Julie Peiffer