I Remember

It took 35 years for you
to make an impact on my life.
Though I only knew you one,
I expect the last 34
were just as magnificent.
If people ask me, I will say
James was a good man.
I will joke that he was funny.
I will fumble my words
and wish him back to this earth.
But maybe my friend,
my friendly ghost,
chatting three cubicles down,
might say happiness
is where he is now.
In my sadness comes his smile.
I remember us chatting
of fishing trips, hikes
and the Denver air that brought James
to me.
James. I miss you.
My time with you will be missed.
I hope that where you are now
is somewhere similar
to the chilled Durango rivers
you know so well. Home.
I plan on learning to fish.
I plan on fishing in the deep backwoods
with high hopes you'll be there
guiding my line back and forth.
When my line catches,
I'll remember your jokes
and how you told me one day
you'd teach me how to fish
the way it was supposed to be done.
I miss you, my friend.
I miss you.
Friend.