The last time you called,
I cut the call short.
I had too much to do
and you, too little to report.

Shortly after the call,
you would never call again
since Death called on you
as he does on all men.

Some regret I should feel
or even sorrow since you passed,
but the only thing I feel
is an emptiness that will last.

© Autumn Siders 2008

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