Sonnet for Gary

We all live after death in memory

   Which smooths the rough stone of our lives until

It has the curve and line of poetry

   Like happiness that we from grief distill.

In memory, our awkward symphony

   Will lose its baser frets, and all our false

Notes will be tweaked into a harmony

   That turns our halting tune into a waltz—

The way we made an album from your life,

   My brother—upbeat tracks that we can hum

Whose high notes are so strong they dull the knife

   Of grief that made the world bleed and become

      Empty without you—empty, cold and wrong—

      Until we close our eyes and hear your song.

 

Copyright 2014 Matthew J Wells