This time you didn’t pick up
I left my deep baritone on your voice mail
And decided to move anyway
It was just like me after all
To prefer a chilly walk at dusk
When a rare blue sky in January
Had just happened

I was not in a particular worry,
Only a step further in my concern
I mean,
You’re just dying
It’s a day-to-day process for anyone
Only goes faster in your case

I walked along the East cemetery,
Knowing it would perhaps be your next location
But it didn’t feel such a gloomy thought
Plus, it is very peaceful in here
Unlike an hour ago
In that crowdy shopping center

This time you did not open
I saw you were home, curtains shut,
But a little lamp of your matchless design was turned on
From you desk probably

Your hands moved,
And I felt somehow reassured
Then went back to the station district
Where the multitudes of the living
Have to deserve their final rest,
And whose effort is so painfully noisy,
So constantly aimless,
That it makes perfect sense
How religions dangle the promise of eternal bliss
I don’t think you’re a believer actually,
But you have to find your peace at the moment,
Which makes a busy man out of a dying body

I knew I’d see you hopefully sooner than death.
And as I’m writing these lines,
Searching for a little human presence
On a heavy cold night,
I witness the same kind of little lamp near by the window
A message for the outside world :
I’m alive, just don’t bother me.

Oh, the bar’s already packed
With too many frenzied folks
Who have no attitude, only grimaces,
Who have no style, not anything close to yours
But these two sitting a table ahead of mine
Look so engaged in taking care of each other ;
And how they hug at the face of another long winter,
Feels right enough for me.

It’s OK,
You’re just dying.
And finishing the poem,
I realize the place is totally empty by now

It’s peaceful and lonely
A little like your cemetery.