Did You Hear the Wolf, Cry?

(written for the Eddie Van Halen comp)

I did
and it cut my heart,
his sorrow—
a father, gone
a son, grieving.

You were his garden gate
to where flowers still bloomed
behind cigarette smoke.

Do you think the Wolf saw the sky
and how it became just a little bit

It happens every time
someone so loved
goes away, and
God must make space for them.

Ah, waves still churn the sands,
clouds still look breathlessly
before a storm—
it all goes on without each one of us.

He holds your guitar, now
The Wolf
and with it, may he slay
the murderous spines
of pop-vomit mavens, who
pass charades as music
to the ears of the deaf.

(I believe I hear you
in halls where the rest of The Greats
have gone.)

There is comfort where the spirit
meets flesh,
and you are not so far away,
after all.

Salute, Eddie….
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