Best Friends

In front of my house
The oil Stained asphalt
is a constant reminder of
the summer you and I spent
frustrating over my funny little German car
Every now and then
I try to feel the stain, and reach you
As I cry your name in the darkness

Once a year at Five A. M.
While a new year's snow
fuses with the tears from my hear
The oil turns to blood
It leaves a bitter taste upon my lips
Permeating my being with anger and pain
my mind with confusion and awe
If only I could have touched you one more moment
Before you were gone



( From a new beginning, January to June 1993)