Note from Joe: Ever notice how great poetry kinda sticks in your throat? Yeah. Like this one.
he smiled at me
as I cradled his head.
he smiled at me.
As my open lips met his,
with my tears wet on his face,
as I said goodbye,
he smiled.
our students watched
as they gathered for class.
our students watched.
As the bicycle was freed
from beneath the semi's wheels,
sharing silent grief,
they watched.
he winked at me
as the sirens approached.
he winked at me.
As I blew into his mouth,
with the blood wet on his face,
as he looked goodbye,
he winked.