Photo from newscientist.com
Tomorrow is Good Friday, and my thoughts are toward the Holy significance of that day. As a result, Poetry Friday is on Thursday this week.
May your experience of Easter include personal reflection on the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ.
This poem recalls the recent death of a family friend.
Scotch Mints
On the very next day
I woke to snow falling
a heavy, sloppy mess on the roads and underfoot,
and I was immediately thankful that the bag of mints
is foil lined, waterproof,
pressed down by a covering of wet white.
And I thought (tried not to, but I did)
Of you, tucked in there
and what remains of you tucked in here,
in us.
How I can’t help but look expectantly at each passing red pickup
even though I know, I know.
And how often I (almost) drag myself up there
to stand over earth and voice something you’d want to hear,
Something I forgot to say.
Like long after an elephant dies
Scavengers had their fill, blood ties paid homage
The bones remain, sun whitened, immediate.
Like you, still present in
your house on
your street,
and in echos of
your words,
the lingering smell of your cigar
as you sit in the darkened backyard with Bob
shooting the breeze.
Lesley-Anne Evans, January 2010
BUDDY BREATHING 
