for the girl whose best friend died

and the wind stopped I said, "good morning"

she wasn't there of course, it was still early and
the coffee wasn't ready yet. Still, it hung in the air
all said and unnecessary now, in hopes she'd be there
soon.

By noontime the sun was out, and winter was damned
with the faint praise of a slow walk along a busy city sidwalk,
no words exchange, but at least a glance of avoidance

she still wasn't there, by now it was late, very
late and the coffee, what was left of it, was bitter and cold
full of ground beans and the apathy of the entire office.

I left at 5:07pm, after receiving the phone call from her
sister down in Arkansas,"He's gone, and she has to bury him too
I don't know how she'll get through this she's still so sad

from losing her child in that accident, and then the cancer scare
last month." She sighed, "Pray for her," she said
simply.

I did, though I know God does not hear me
in hopes that maybe my rage with the rage of all those other friends
who love her will wake him up from his impotent slumber.