Who will I write my letters to now you’ve sailed away

Who will answer from the distance of your wandering footsteps keeping time

Who will play the melody to my songs when finally I sing again

Who will recollect the pictures when so few occupied spaces in your mind

Who will I believe you’d become over hardened years

Who will I invite for our reunion when will and courage align

Who was it I imagined could hold on to some thinning thread between

Who was it in the room to notice your slow graceless fall

Who was it you liked to call your only friend

Who was it called your number disconnected

Who was it arrived to knock at a pale door where life had fled

Who is it hears your song playing long and wan and deep in the after

Who is it captures your drawings in this wooden frame

Who is it plants white lilies on your lonesome grave

Who is it remembers the proper spelling of your name

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