Absent Friend

Denial, the old joke says,
is not a river in Egypt,
but I find myself drowning in it
all the same.

You would  have appreciated that,

fond of wordplay as you were.

I read your old e-mails

when I wish I could

talk to you.

I drink tea and listen

to the steady blowing

of the vent in this office,

a background noise

to accompany my drift

into the past,

to the time I made you laugh,

almost causing the Coke

you were drinking

to come out your nose

and how you did the same to me

a few minutes later

and grinned that gotcha back

grin at me.

The day after you died

I got a piece of junk mail 

offering me a deal

on my final expenses,

and on the anniversary

of your passing, I 

got the same offer in the mail

and I believed you were

messing with me from the other side,

at least that is what I

chose to believe because

I deny any notion that

I will never see you again.

I deny the idea that you

are gone forever,

that you are not still around

shaking loose these memories

from the vault of my sorrow

to help me write this poem to you. - Jeff Barnes