You were the cute guy in the backyard…. taking long drags on a short cigarette-
A toboggan hat that clued me in
that you were a free spirit yet unclaimed.
Your almond auburn eyes- with lashes girls would kill for
and a puppy dog would whine forRL was your name.
You were a guy us girls felt safe round,
putting up our curtain rods when we moved inno worry that when we turned our backs
you would steal the trust you worked to win.
We prepared the dry dirt for a gardenme hoeing up rocks, you pulling them out.
Your sign erected, “Please don’t litter”, told us this was sacred ground.
It was fall, and oh so sudden!
A wildfire ravaged in your brain,
the neurons dying, you were blinded, and your teardrops dripped like rain.
Your pleas for sanity and restoration awoke a long forgotten struggle,
and they found you on the street side. Your last tears had formed a puddle.
You were so much more than that though. You, an artist. None had known.
With a friend you fashioned sculpture with rusted tools and construction cones.
And what was twisted, tired, and rusty you and young blood made into
a testimony to your transition, the RL we all loved and knew.