To Katie (Who Loved James Taylor)

I've seen fire and I've seen rain
I've seen sunny days that I thought would never end
I've seen lonely times when I could not find a friend
But I always thought that I'd see you again

Over a decade's worth
of snowflakes have fallen and melted,
fertilizing the place where you sleep eternal
on Pete's Hill.

At random times during my day
I remember your voice--
that British accent which pronounced
all "th" words with an "F"
so when you said:
"I thought about it"
it came out:
"I fought about it."

You must have been born under
the Tarot the Lovers
for you always had your entourage of men,
young and old,
asking for your time.

And yet, you always had time for me.

Like the time we took
a wicked shot of espresso and
called in late to work,
lying and saying my car had broken down.

That night in January I received the call,
living at home in purgatory,
waiting for Redemption.

She said it happened instantly,
that you and your male friend
were dead on impact
the moment you hit that icy patch
and collided head-on with the fire truck,
sirens blaring and lights flashing,
Oh, the irony. . .

I fancy you were on your way home
from the Gallatin Gateway,
drunk and high as a kite,
having the time of your life
like when I last saw you,
as we shared a smoke in the campus parking lot
after watching The Last Days of Disco.

I just wanted to let you know
that you were right when you said,
"I'll never see you again."
I'm sorry. . .