The problem with humans
Is that they do not live forever
And when you open your heart
To a friendship
It hurts when they die.
We spoke often
Commiserated on being
A surviving spouse
And I listened to his stories
Of people he knew
And places he'd been
Distrust in certain institutions
Shaped his world view
Distrust that was well-deserved
In his telling
But he also had a tender heart
Beneath the gruffness
Rest in peace, sir
We will miss you
Rest in Peace at last, Rick, PO Box 1111
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