Dagny

I want to say that I'll be seeing you around

but I won't because you're gone now.

You're flesh and bone and vacant soul.

And I keep wishing I had said more when you still could.

And I wish I'd known you better because now you're reduced to legends.

I wish that you weren't the last thing my grandfather had from before he had us

because I'm sure this will take more of a toll than he is able to pay.

You looked too small, so frail in that bed.

Your poor feet you could no longer feel.

And all your family from around the world had come because that is what you meant to us.

That the world is small and you go to where you are needed, if only to bring the soup.

You mean tire swings to us, and skinned knees, and crokinole, and fights between siblings, and hidden chocolate stashes, and mysterious houses to us.

You meant fun and laughter to us.

And you meant a hug whenever we needed it whether we knew it or not.

You're another dead woman I feel I've made a promise to. A promise you'd never have held me to in the first place.

I should have kissed you more. I should have heard more stories.