..

and we, all three of us are trying to make ready our  
minds for what's coming. the quiet times post conversation invites the force of it all to let its weight be known. there is sadness, and a palpable fear about the house when I visit, but there is a love, stronger than its ever been for as far back as I can remember      
     
     
Circle the wagons    
     
even at the bar        
the firm handshakes are changing        
to a light slap on his shoulder        
because hardly anybody        
wants to look death in the eyes        
       
the few who would have        
adorn the walls in fine photograph        
captured in a flash, mid-sup of the black stuff        
some patrons may consider that an immortally        
others, an act of corporate magnetism        
       
we are getting used to it now        
the mere thoughts of the thing anyway        
we've talked, my brothers and I        
because we'd watched his brisk step        
turn to a slow shuffle          
and waited mid-sentence for words        
that hung on        
to the tip of his tongue          
       
but in-between the banter        
and the let's get down to business        
there's a black hole spinning into life        
somewhat satiable for now          
but we all know        
at some stage it will engulf him        
into silence