::

 i still smell like campfire

in my hair and my coat and on my skin

i am breathing

barely.

today. slowly. my head in a dusty haze. in a swimming mist.

i am softly. quietly.

last night a long time old family friend..........

[i must admit i do not like the phrase past away. i prefer to say that someone died. i am again going through thoughts in my head about how our society doesn't deal with death and dying in an easy way] .............. is gone.

we saw him at the hospital.

we spoke to him

about the chana we had made - he told me to put in those big black cardamom pods - 

about the yellow breasted robin visiting our house that morning

about the pitta bird who had broken a forest snail shell on a rock outside his bedroom window the last time he was home

he laughed and joked

he held tightly onto the palm leaves we had brought

he said 

'it's not that hard'