Hello death, my old friend
I hesitate only slightly
to bestow this moniker—
after all, who but life
has been my companion
for a greater length of time
Somewhere between first breath
and borrowed time
I learned this much:
life teaches us how to love
but never how to let go
That lesson comes later
spoken softly
when the room grows still
and the words finally listen
The father of a friend died
I wrote from grief
Another friend
Another father
Again, I wrote
Two poems
Two vocabularies of absence
Two postures of grief
One held hands across a lifetime
One followed footprints already fading
Both believed the separation temporary
Life escorted me through joy and sorrow
But you, Death, leaned close
and explained the meaning of both
So come closer, old friend
Not to claim me
but to sit with me for a while
There are things I still don’t know
and you are patient
in the way only endings can be
Teach me how to honor
what I cannot keep
Teach me how to carry
what will one day carry me
© Ron Simpson Jr.
January 18, 2026
