# 178 ‘Look’
I have been reading the last poems
a friend wrote as she died.
The poems are full of nights, ghosts,
butterflies, birds and sounds.
I am also reading a book called Everywhere I Look
and it is true, I do.
The last poems don’t say goodbye
They say, look at this and then look at this
and if you must close your eyes, bump into this.
Once she writes that she is impatient now,
and I like that.
I hope, like her, I am impatient for tomorrow
when the time comes.
Meanwhile, everywhere, I look.