Don

You mouth was open.
I couldn’t close it.
You’d said, “Take care of Kim
and bring prayers..”

I gave Kim
my spare room.
I called
and got prayers.

I got your dad and brother
at the airport.
Your son and daughter came
and your ex-wife called. She cried.

I called the insurance and got you cremated
for one hundred eighty-two dollars.
Your brother took you to Georgia
in the cardboard box.

The prayers came to my house
and we remembered you.
I fixed a snack and your dad said,
“So much for the lord.”

Your son wrote and said,
“thank you.”
Sailor, they rowed you
into the Atlantic off Georgia.

Kim and her friend called.
They needed a ride to Gallup.
After all these years,
I remember you.

Your “Only best friend
that did not
die
on you.”