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I don’t know how

I wrote “I don’t know how I will live without Steve Burke in my life”

and everywhere my friends called out

finally we lay down and our hearts ached and our chests hurt we pressed our hands down on them to calm ourselves and to keep our hearts in

. . .

I dreamed I was at Steve’s and the best horse had escaped from the old barn and from the pastures and I followed down where Route 1 is along a road that is no longer there to discover a land of frozen rivers and impossible ice peaks I saw him galloping and went after him and when we were together we somehow climbed up one peak and slid down to stare across a fast moving river at an ancient building

we turned away and crossed black ice in valleys and up a steep slope I did not know how we could climb

at one point he carried me on his back but I climbed off because I knew it was too steep and dangerous for him and we struggled on together up and down

when we returned to the house and barn everyone was in Steve’s house

all was a confusion, which I joined

when I woke the great horse had escaped again

from Steve — poems from a friend — Bill Eberle

Thomaston and Warren Maine     February 19 and 20

© 2019, Bill Eberle