FAREWELL TO A FRIEND

[jim turner]

Having endured the pulpit’s oily lies--
daubing with words perfection on a man--
and half of their second lachrymose hymn,
I left them awash in tears, turned my eyes
to his face, to the day friendship began.
(He lacked two fingers; fearful, would not swim.)
The only thing he had not shared was pain.

I dreamed that he walked with me in the rain
as far as the bridge; from its cold stone rail
let fall my loss and made my own farewell,
watched current take him as that thirsty river
carried away my friend, my forgiver..

Jim (I really did walk out in the middle
of that funeral. Never could tolerate them,
anyway, since they made me speechless,
which for me is a sad state.)