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Thursday, April 23, 2009

Natalie Calls II

I have a longish essay about regrets and about not taking the time to be friends with those we should, titled Natalie Calls. This is the shortened, poetic version.

Natalie Calls II

Natalie awoke,
like every day,
then her breath caught
she passed away.

Her heart was fine
the doctors said,
but they were wrong
and she was dead.

We were pals,
neighbors then,
we hadn’t earned
the title friend.

Too busy we,
all of us,
and just like that
we’d missed the bus.

I was sad,
truly irate.
We didn’t take time,
now its too late.

I’ll never let
this be again.
I’ll never wait
to call a friend,

or visit family,
e-mail a mate,
there isn’t time,
no one should wait.

We don’t have later
for what we’d say.
We just have now,
only today.

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