MOURNING A FRIEND

What debts your death erased, I’ll pay.

Snow falling through a winter afternoon

and the wild chrysanthemums of home

will look after what love you recovered.

In a single moment, your smile

has set into a cipher.

The overland bus from Manhattan to Hamilton

keeps its usual pace,

but writing

even half a line of elegy

escapes me.

Down the frozen December road

of this far country

my suitcase

tugs and rumbles.