I Light a Candle for My Friend

I light a candle for my friend
while reflecting wryly
he wasn’t the kind for that.
Still, you do what you do.

He was living more intensely,
he said, with his days shortening.

I spend this day, first weeping,
then feeling crabby. Just on dusk
I burst out of the house for a walk.

I make myself notice
rows of white camellias,
an old lady walking a puppy,
a gaggle of little children.

A magpie perches on a roof
grooming under one wing.

Soft grey clouds
rest gently on the air;
pale sunset pinks
come in behind them.

All our days are shortening.
The dark settles down.

I puff my way slowly
up the hill to home.

Three birds suddenly
erupt from a tree,
almost into my face,
flying at desperate speed
to get away from me, squawking,

surprising me into laughter.