My friends are beginning to die

My fading voice sings of love
—Jeff Buckley, “Grace”


w/ thanks to Norah for the gift of the album


Live at Sin-é you sound at once
as if you are already dead
& as if you will never die.
Even today, years after
you drowned, you sound
confident of your place
in the world & its history.

My friends are beginning to die.
Last year, they were all getting married.
I did not know how to deal with that,
& I do not know how to deal with this.

I think what is most difficult
is that they leave things behind.
I do not mean memories
(though that is a part of it)
but objects.

The door
to Steve’s office.

Marvin’s book
on my shelf, & then later
a province away, on the shelf
of “new books” at the library
where Mandy & I
rented some movies.

Your albums. What should I do
with these things?
Help me. Tell me what
to do. Tell me what

it is like. Am I wrong?
I feel sometimes as if
I am wrong. As if

there is something to
look forward to, or
to fear. You sound

so alive. Your words, their music. You must
be able to help me. Help me.

Your voice persists. You must
be able to speak. You sound

so very alive.