You were a part of me, my dearest friend,
I often shared your bad times as a child,
you were a tiger, just as brave and wild
and now I heard that your life had to end.
I’d been about these streets in other days
away from all that makes a mind a mess
a holiday from feelings more or less,
of wandering inside this complex maze.
Though while I wandered, you were on my mind,
I heard your voice as if you stood right here.
It was your presence that, so real and near,
was surely of a different, stranger kind.
The mist came up, along a breeze from sea,
a salty smell reminding me of you,
the way the mist in May will always do
like when we both were children, you and me.
The foghorn sounded as a sad salute.
a gull was crying in a raucous prayer,
and all was gone, the mist was everywhere
as well as in my eyes. My thoughts went mute.
A moment there you were, a child again,
a silhouette against the hazy sky.
You lifted your right arm to wave goodbye
and disappeared before the mist turned rain.