Charles

by JD DeHart

lumbering figure,
a once-friend who could never
quite hold a job.
not for long.
now gone, no longer walking
down the street, looking
for a ride.  no longer
making his jokes, pretending
to be young even though
his temples were graying.
we had not talked in years,
the last communication
vague thoughts of a gathering,
a few reminisces.
a reminder of the inevitable
loss of the list of remembered
names and places.