To a friend

There is a small and unremarkable bridge I often cross

That now stands guardian to the memory of a friend.

When your burden became too much, it held you in its thrall

And gave passage across your own imagin’d Styx.

And on that very day and hour your demon choice was made

What base chance made me bypass the bridge, and you?

This is left to me: the possibility of deliverance that day;

And the knowledge that I should have heard your cry long before.

Had I passed there do I imagine destiny would have changed its course,

Fate recast the script? Could we have pulled back from despair’s brink;

Overcome the blackness and rejoined your life untouched?

Could breath have ever been the same again?

 

There is a small and unremarkable bridge I often cross

And in its crossing mark my loss,

            and his: he was much more than he’d believe;

Thus, I remember; thus, I grieve.