Friday Brought the D's

An aimless emptiness over time
from day to day down six flights
in this land
where six floors are called five
to my sullen mailbox
mocking and empty
reminding me of the forgetfulness
that comes in death
or leaving a homeland

Gone is gone, dead or on a plane
the mourning stops
sooner than we would know
or would care to know
The newness has worn off
of this departure
and the gush of lettered interest
fades to a trickle
and now at last a drip

On Friday the waters all rose at once
spring's melting snowpack
that sent me
scrambling for high ground
six flights up to five
to worry open all the D's
Dennehy, Derleth, Detman and Dawn
these clustered lines
from my address book

It must be, a continent away
a springtime recollection
of aunts and uncles dead
a laying of flowers on parents graves
and letters to that guy who left
An alphabet is left, the A's and M's
of other friends
I wonder if they'll come in O's and R's
or come at all