Here's the first poem of my new book. Alas, the book still doesn't have a title.
This poem's still a work in progress. Just like with I Don't Want to Be Crazy, I am starting with a bit of a flashforward...

Enjoy!

PS: The first draft is due in less than 4 weeks...OMG!



I walk down my block
and then take a right turn.
Two more blocks
and I’ll be with Brian.
For the first time
in a long time,
I know he’ll be there
waiting for me.
I sit down on the grass next to him.
He has flowers,
but I know they’re not for me.
I wonder who gave them to him,
but I don’t ask.

I tell Brian about my day.
I say, “I saw your dad
at the supermarket.
I didn’t talk to him—
not like he knows who I am
and even if he did,
I wouldn’t know what to say.
I watched him
take things off the shelves,
look them over
and then put them back.
There was almost nothing
in his cart.
I wonder if he’s always been like that,
or just lately.”

I say, “I miss you.”
I ask if Brian missed me too,
then wait for his answer.
If that squirrel runs up that tree,
then Brian’s answer is yes.
If it stays on the grass,
his answer is no.

The squirrel doesn’t move,
and my breath catches in my throat.
After a moment,
it zips up the tree.
I smile and lay down
next to Brian.
I wish he would hold me
like he used to,
but he doesn’t.
The warm sun makes me drowsy
and I fall asleep on my side
next to Brian.

When I wake up,
grass is imprinted
on my arm and leg.
I get up and brush the grass off my clothes.
Brian doesn’t move.
I say, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
I reach out to touch him.
My fingers make contact
with smooth, cold granite.
I trace my fingers
over the deeply imprinted words:

Brian Dennis
Born February 11
Died age seventeen
Beloved son and friend