passing

my friend mourns
each day since her babe
was born,

Liam’s first day
on earth, his sixth
month of life,

this much
self-reflection
I can’t fathom, when

I catch sight of
your wool-capped figure
descending the snow-

covered path winding
away from my rooms,
aware then that

there will be a day
when you no longer
climb the stone steps

back to this heart