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 Category:  General Poetry
  Posted: November 11, 2019      Views: 17

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 ABOUT
GYPSYMOONCAT 
I have returned to Fanstory after a break of nearly two years. I wrote under the handle "alpacalady" but decided that as I no longer am part of an alpaca breeding concern, my id needed changing. My new name Gypsymooncat reflects my star-sign (Cancer) - more...

The Seal of Quality committee has rewarded her with 1 seals.

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Exceptional
This work has reached the exceptional level
For someone who's late
"Goodbye My Friend" by Gypsymooncat
Never would I have thought
that you'd get here before me.

You always arrived last,
flicking a piece of fluff from your jacket,
tut-tutting about the traffic,
the woman who nearly got run over,
the state of the world, taxes,
or how there isn't enough time in a day;
all sorts of excuses that I gather
were meant to absolve you
from not turning up on time.

Not once did I hear you apologise for being late.
In fact, not once did I hear you apologise.

These things were so infuriating about you,
but were things I grew to accept and love.
Oh not just your lateness and your excuses for being so!
But the way the corners of your eyes crinkled when you smiled;
how your whole face would screw up and you'd let out
the most God-awful guffaw. You made me think of
something out of Burlesque with that laugh.

Not only that, it was your attitude;
how you looked at the world so differently to me --
whereby I saw it as a burden, it was your oyster,
your lobster thermidore; your stadium,
where you performed like Dame Joan Sutherland,
or Maria Callas (whoever she is).

You were a presence, a force to be reckoned with;
a formidable woman.
I was nothing like you.
But we were close, melded together like
toast and cheese.

I stand here, watching you being lowered ,
observing how deathly quiet it is,
and how I feel more afraid,
the lower you go.
I wonder if you are actually in there;
or if you might suddenly leap up,
yelling out: "SURPRISE!!!"

But the plot remains quiet - so unlike you.
I stifle a sob and it sticks in my throat,
like dry bread.
It was always me and you....

You had told me not to cry, and I won't --
not here anyway.

So why, this once, did you decide to be early?
Why did you defy the odds that you had set, and that I
had got used to?
Why would you choose such an event
to arrive at before me?


And did you ever think you'd arrive
at this place before me?
Or did you plan it all along --
a way of proving that you, too,
could make it somewhere on time?

Whereby you could always be counted on to be
late for dinner,
or cancelling at the last minute, or
packing your bags for an overseas trip
an hour before departure,
all of a sudden YOU CHOOSE NOW.
Now, for the first time in your whole life,
you choose to be on time
for your own funeral.

I'd rather you were cancelling,
or were merely late.

At the last minute,
I throw a gold watch on top
of your coffin.

Goodbye my friend. Watch over me.
Pays one point and 2 member cents.

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