To Keating

Your eyes were a flashlight of our universe

Yanking sin from the corridors like a pirouette

Swirling the tides of life and doom like torn ribbons

Dancing even though the frays could only get deeper

And more thin worn. They say you had the warmest heart

Yet always through the window you knew sadness. Those crystals

Shimmered in the black lick of flame like a blood diamond.

Eating up the air swallowing the sky combusting along

The steady click tick tick of time and gravity writing back

There was such beauty in your shield, Mr. Keating.

Your mind a net woven gently with cactus silk

 

Where in our thoughts exists the place from which we’re not allowed back?

How do we become locked in a room away from it all?

Why does your line in this play ring so dark?

Why did you have to drown?

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