on sight: for Steve

you can’t see the food
on your plate
I’m told
or read the signs
in the subway
how you still stay positive
is a wonder to me
Rita says you’re deteriorating fast
and who will look after you
we proud men
we fall hard
a tree in the forest
a bear in the woods
I used to tease you about
all the bookmarks in books
you never finished
but later
inspired by me you said
you began reaching
that final page
it’s about discipline
something our kind never lacked
dinosaurs in a modern world
the bones of which
you would seek in deserts
now you only see shadows
where once were faces
of friends of family
dear old friend
my heart breaks again
like it does almost every day
these things in life
are never fair
years ago in college
we played that silly game
of what would you give up
if you had to choose one sense
of the five we are blessed with
it’s funny I can’t remember
what we each chose
but I do remember
what we deemed most valuable
our wonderous sight
eyes to see the world
the people in it
yours were clear
now there is only fog
oh dear old friend
I am no longer there
to drive your car to Texas
or guide you down stairs
in darkened theatres
to sign your name
on credit card receipts
to make you laugh
to hold you close
to face what must be
a future of dependency
the hardest role to play
for someone so stubbornly
self-sufficient
and yet
old dear friend
you stay in good spirits
proving once again
just how tough you are

company: for Maureen

we learned not to eat pizza
in restaurants run by Vietnamese
and buying by the slice
was the best
at that one place with the hot young guys
they called you lovely lady
and you were, are
charming them all
even me, still
as you separated the ham
from the carbonara sauce
and slid your plate over
and like me
relished spaghetti with black ink sauce
I drank white wine for you
old friend
and I hope you appreciate the sacrifice
but it was worth it
to have your company
once again