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Your friends don’t call here anymore

I remember when they’d work on their cars in the driveway.

They’d call and leave messages

Or stop by to see if you were home yet.

I got to know them, Jeff, Bill, Carl, Ron, Tony

And the girls too, Stephanie, Lisa, Holly, Enid, Gail

The girls would call and be shy on the phone

Our house was the house that could feed lots of kids on short notice

Ours would be the place for good movies

There would be kids on the floor, draped over the sofa, looking in the fridge

There was always action – always a buzz.

Your spirit drew those kids in like a bright beacon.

Now the house is quiet.

The phone doesn’t ring at all these days

I don’t have to stock the fridge

No one calls or comes over

It’s not that they don’t care,

They don’t want to upset me

They think they remind me of your death

When your light went out, so did a part of theirs.

I am left sitting in the dark and quiet house

In the early hours of the morning

Missing your noise

Missing the energy you gave

Missing the warmth of your smile

But hoping that I can still feel close to you

In the sighting of the next red-tailed hawk

Flying high in the clouds

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