Dick Larsen

I got the close parking spot that morning.
There at the corner, the last one before the stop sign.
I drifted in, joining a friend on the stair.

" Had I heard,"she asked?

And in such few words Dick was gone.
No "Bon Voyage," or goodbye for me or anyone.
His death-words dripped from my ears and stopped my steps.
I heard my wail and felt the tears
burning my throat and cheeks. Gone.

The story replayed to me from different mouths;
it was so sudden, decisive and final.
He and his broad smile, full of teeth and kind eyes,
had gone to the coast when his heart rebelled and quit the job.

Smiles like his shed so much of the daily light
in the world I see about me. I am sure of that.
Someplace has been thrust into darkness
with no posted sign nor explanation.

That unlit spot could be a lonely stand of fir trees
or a small island or a small store,
now waiting out this blackened time of vigil
till another new smile comes to light the world.

Then the missing rays will be restored.
Casting those long, familiar, shadows
for all to see.
Warm wonderful light.

Be watchful for Dick's familiar smile
among new and passing faces
Seek it, greeting it in kind
smiles light our way