Julian

I sit in this once empty chair and turn

my thoughts to how you’ve been since last we spoke.

You had the 'flu and thus postponed my visit.

So sad it turned into a cancellation;

it would have been a blast to say farewell.

 

But such is life. You get on with the task

of living: work or play; awake or dreaming;

earning or spending; running, walking… stopping.

It all just stops. When we were boys, we never knew

a clock could run so fast. But such is life.

 

It’s always later than we think, the stoic

would say, and he’d be right. How late it was

although we did not know, and so our friendship

had no farewell blast. There was no talk

of all our misdemeanours past. No joking

 

about the time we started Matron’s car.

No reminiscences about the time

I stayed at your house and you pestered your dad

to let me try some aqua grappa (which he did).

Now laughing now, but only endless silence.

 

And yet I see you clearly in my mind.

That face from boyhood’s many years ago.

That rascal’s grin. That loaded laugh.

That attitude which broke so many rules.

So vivid in my mind. So bright. So… Julian.

 

It’s such a cliché, ‘Gone, but not forgotten.’

It holds some truth, though, for today you are remembered,

with fondness, sadness, joy and love.

Returning to the silent here and now,

I wonder at the turning of the clock.