Grace

A heavy mist hung overhead the night

you told me you were dying.

You were high and I was tired,

but our words buzzed and the stars

shone through fog and darkness to

show us the truth about living.

The beauty above us first shimmered

then flickered with the realization

of humanity's hurt - our deepest pains-

and I couldn't tell if pain of death or truth

was worse:

You sobbed the tears of regret

and I cried of incomprehension or denial.

Rain fell on us both

and I remembered the time

we both ran from a storm,

falling once in the mud,

huddling scared in our bunkbed

before dinner-

I wonder what you remembered,

what the heavens tell you tonight...

the fog is lifting

and taking you with it.