Pizza Slice Sorrow

I remember the shape of your grief.

Because I remember the pieces of your life

As they were strewn across your lawn

And shone through your windows like

A TV.

.

I remember your dog, old and arthritic,

Sniffing around the edges of your lawn,

Pale golden coat catching the fading rays

Of the boiling summer sun, settled now

At dusk.

.

And that sprawling silver maple living

In the very center of your front lawn...

I remember the way it cast rippling shade

Before it fell to the arms of disease and

Rain.

.

I share in your anguish at having lost

An ancient friend, a short-lived one,

The vanishing mailbox struck five times

By the same four a.m. reckless driver.

I've cut myself a slice of your sorrow,

Though who could know why I did.

I've set myself up as the sentinel of these

Memories, these lives, these puzzle pieces

To a world that existed once and only

Once.