The news came over you the way winter

does, like a wave crawling up your spine,

every goosebump a sign that the story

you lived by would soon come to its

end. The fire warming your heart makes

way for the embers and ashes,

for all that’s left, black scars and burn

marks, a house without a roof, memories

forever frozen in place. You’ll

Know he’s gone when the silence

settles like dust.