Short Elegy

It’s been two weeks since:
His broken voice on the phone, meandering to the topic
And I awake for 30 hours, 2000KM away.
That night at the bar I saw the ghost
Of a lost sailor and had to leave.
I thought of you at the harbour
And through the cobble stone paths.
You called the day before. No one was home.
The snow held us in Maine for three nights.
I didn’t make it home. I heard they packed the place,
Flowing over the balcony and out the door.
My brother, he now believes you were an angel
The entire time, spoke eloquently.
He has been at your house ever since.
Stewing in my regrets, your death
Has shown what can be lost in the silence.
I waited too long.
And this poem can only fail you.