Thin vapours

When the phone rang and you spoke
it was a different you.
You were smaller and further away and I needed to stretch to reach you.

Even then I wasn't sure it was you I had caught because there was
so little substance in my grip.
Where was your confidence, your passion, your opinions?
Where was the cut and thrust of word and jest?
Where was the sparkle now?

I listened. There was little else of value I could do
and even my listening lacked value, being divided between the
compassion of a friend and the mental arithmetic
of times, tasks and what I needed to be doing next.

So what can I offer you?
I'll not be organised enough to call
Nor disciplined enough
to remember you as often as I might.

Although I wish it was, I doubt that
Prayer will be a daily sacrifice;
More likely now
and then.

So this is now.
And then
from time to time
When I will read these lines, thin vapours of prayer
will rise and I will remember you and recall
That even when you died a little bit
It was just a different kind of living
making you more special
in a different kind of way.

(c) A McN