Elegy
For Cameron Morse
Rainfall under the banyan tree,
companion to the coming night
as distant thunder siezures
over industrial suburban shadows
in Samut Prakan. Memories like songs
on your bald head and wispy red beard
rapture clear and sweet with dry heaves,
the leaves of the banyan weeping
salty saline streams, hot and steadily
down trembling cheeks. I cannot breathe
for grief, the dark tropical rain drowning
the wordlessness of your passing.
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Epitaph
The bond of brotherhood
a budding branch broken
by glioblastoma
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to be. 