The sun is shining outside, I see.
I opened up the front door. 
Crisp fresh cool air envelopes me.
What am I stayng inside for?
I should go outside and take a walk.
Nice walks, short ones and long, I have taken before.
Often.  What now causes me to balk?
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
I stand and stare at the sky.
Blue with a few fleecy trails of white.
Hours from now, when it is night,
I believe the moon will still be full.
How often Brian and I marveled together at that sight;
How often we spoke of the magic of life and its many miracles.
That is why I am not going for a walk.
I'm used to having my friend Brian by my side.
Together we would walk in syncopated stride,
And we would talk.
How can I, with my heavy heart, go out, without my friend,
For a lonely walk?
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
We would laugh.  We would be sharing all we were.
Brian and I were so close,
Sometimes some people thought we might be a gay couple.
We were a couple; but not gay. 
I had a girlfriend then,
And Brian hoped to have another girlfriend someday.
Sometimes girls and women became the subject of our talk.
We talked about the different relationships
We each once had in our pasts.
We talked about the women we liked--
Which ones seemed likely could make good girlfriends;
Which ones we thought might make good wives.
We used to talk of these things before either one of us got cancer.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Finally, Brian found a Sandra;
She made him think she loved him enough to marry him;
I was looking forward to being Brian's best man;
But after he had spent much of his savings on her, she left the State.
Brian later found a Gloria who also seemed
To like him in that special way;
She never panned out either--no glint of gold--
No feminine grace for Brian as he headed toward growing old.
So Brian was without full female companionship for a long time,
When suddenly he fell into the snapping snare of fate.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
But I had already fallen in, before Brian. 
I was the one who was supposed to die first. 
Not Brian. 
I got cancer;
And Brian, my friend whom I had taken care of for years,
Promised me he would take care of me, when my time came. 
He was the one who was supposed to shed tears
For me; I was supposed to die early, not Brian. 
When Brian was told by a counselor, "You know, Michael's cancer
Is going to take him from you, at some time. 
Have you prepared yourself
For how you will deal with Michael's death?"
I was told that Brian replied:
"Well, of course it's going to break my heart.  But I think I'll make it,
Because of all the things that Michael has taught to me." 
So he said his heart would break.
His was supposed to be the broken heart;
And I was supposed to be the one of us
Who would die first and early.
Instead,
Here I am--the one with a broken heart--
And Brian before me is dead.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Sun and rain, joy and pain; I miss my friend Brian.
Not a full year yet has passed since Brian passed,
And now I can feel cancer's teeth gnawing in me.  I see the blood
Flow out of me in my urine, that means I shall soon be only the past.
With no ark for me in sight, my own personal Noah's flood. 
Now the truly dreadful treatments ahead of me loom,
Each one possibly giving me a few more months,
Before my early doom.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
But poor, precious Brian--my life's very best friend--died before me.
That is not the way it was supposed to be.
My cancer and its treatments have tormented me for three years.
Brian was gone ten months after his diagnosis.  Gone so fast.
So I stand at my front door--our front door--crying.
I don't want to go out and walk alone.
But, finally, I think to myself, that Brian would want me to.
We agreed that whoever left this life first,
Would try to be for the other a guardian angel,
If allowed--or at least some kind of helper.
Perhaps Brian is still somehow with me, through all the worst.
As my symptoms become gross, and I feel more and more pain.
So I go outside, after all, for a long good walk;
And like a crazy man,
Sometimes I speak out loud, with Brian to talk.
All by myself, it seems.
But Brian still lives in my heart and mind and in my love
And in my dreams.
But I cannot see him or touch him or hear him; and so--
Sun and rain, joy and pain: I miss my friend Brian.

==============================
Written by Michael LP, aka PoetWithCancer
aka (thanks to my dear friend, Luna Marie) Mr. Poet
Written on Sunday, December 18, 2011  2:38 PM PST
55 degrees F.   Humidity: 45%   Forecast: overcast
Copyright (C) 2011 by Michael LP.  All rights reserved
(Copyrighted for my estate)