You, on the other hand, lived your life like
A fucking big roman candle in a cyclone,
Showering us in scalding, sulphurous sparks.
You were a shark, Finn,
with row after row of razor-sharp neurons.
The world was a more interesting place with you in it.

I’m sorry about that night I thought I saw you
but didn’t cross the road.
It was dark, it was late,
I wasn’t even sure it was you, but…

Another 30 seconds with you.
I wonder how 30 seconds might have changed things?
How does a sweep of the clock tumble in time
to rearrange our lives?
Perhaps its fragile half arc would be crushed under
the weight of your life’s direction, and mine.
Or perhaps;
Would you now be healthy and happy?
Would it be me drained and dry in a coroner’s locker?

Probably not.

On the other hand, how many people were able to
Enjoy today’s sun because of your hands?
Healing hands.
Harming hands.

I’m sad that I’ll never again see that impish grin
fixed for…what seemed forever on your face.
However, what haunts me is a picture of you:

Cold and alone by two white steel spirals.
Cold and alone in the trees, and all the birds asleep.
Cold and alone under an almost full moon.
Cold and alone, preparing for one last
emergency procedure.


One Response to “Fin”

  1. When you read this to me I wept… when I read it on here, I smiled

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