Another soul passed
one day this month -
I knew you well
for four years
and then we split.
We had a son together
and he and I moved
on and away.
You were married
before and after me
and your son is your
only living gift.
I saw you few times
after -
the anger, the scare,
the threadbare feelings
the sadness and despair
- last summer twice
in a nursing home
so young - so old
drinking yourself
into oblivion.
The Ides of March
is the day you died
Cesar's death and yours
will be ingrained
in my brain - as the coins
of Brutus and Charon.
Your genes blended
with mine rest in
three grandkids.
So you took part
in the gene pool -
sailing across the Styx
- not forgotten.
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