To a Troubled Friend

Will you come hunting with me?

Don't even bring a gun,

most times you won't need it.

I know you don’t want to face death,

just take a walk with me at dusk in late November

and we'll think about things other than ourselves.

That's all we're doing out here.

You'll get to question things that you can never know

but will never stop asking

How can it be

that a leaf falling is as loud as a squirrel running is as loud as a deer walking up from behind,

and how can a bear make no sound at all?

You'll see that you drag your scent behind you like a rope,

but so does everyone else.

You'll linger over every low spot in a rock wall.

The logging cut that slopes down to the marsh will make your mind run wild.

You'll fawn over every inch of that white oak like the first time she showed you bare skin,

and worship the mud of the cattail swamp for revealing

you're never alone.

You'll know the names of the lives that are lost

and you'll think about them

like you think about a friend who's passed.

What could I have done?

What can I do better now?