For Thom

I do not know which road
is the sure one.
We all know time
to be the meanest thief,
and why is an explanation
always needed for tears.
I wish for you a messenger
come down from heaven
and fluff your own pillow
and whisper in your ear.
Sorrow is not sorrow
when it is shared,
only when done
in the dark alone.
Remember
I will walk with you
down dark streets
when your tears
come down like rain.