Raining

It is raining outside, yet another death in the world,
This one close to the heart but far from home;
Not a direct blow but as good as a knife through
The chest the memories it revives are so sharp.
Drops from the sky and drops from my friend’s eyes
Coincide in a harmonic lament for a loving father,
Whose fight for life was finally lost in the warmth
Of his own bed, his daughter by his side, fighting tears;
She lost her fight when he lost his, and a steady stream
Rolled down her cheek as the flat line lived up to its name.
The greyest day seems fitting to the current circumstance
As it is almost as if the sky weeps in compassion, joining her
And all her family and friends in harbouring this emptiness,
While the news and reality sit in my stomach, weights in waiting
For a call to arms or for time to just pass as it always does.
Maybe it was sudden or maybe it was expected - either way
The rain that falls today is in his memory and in her sympathy.

(a close friend of mine had some very sad news to tell me the other day).