"For George," Edwin Maldonado, Jr., Speak Piece Poetry Project

There is a light that we leave on in the living room every night before we go to sleep.
Some nights, I think it’s the only thing keeping me from running into the bathroom wall.
It makes the journey to the fridge or the patio or the bed a little easier
Other nights, it’s a lighthouse - a light to remind me that I’m not alone
That i am safe
A light to tell me that the rain or the howling winds or the darkness outside means nothing,
That there is always a flame protecting the silence.
Keeping the calm of this emptiness whole.
Now I just think of my dog
And the emptiness.

This morning I took a walk along the path where we would spend the first moments of every day together
He wasn’t there
I ran back upstairs because the light post where he would pee wasn’t lit
I’m thinking
I’m gonna send a complaint to the leasing office
Tell them that mornings shouldn’t feel unsafe
That this path shouldn’t be so dark
That someone wants to walk their dog today and this light needs to be on
They’ll probably type something back like “your concerns are important to us, we’ll look into it right away”
Yeah, it’s a service request, right?

I’ll wait.

When our loved ones die, the light stays on
They are immortal
Dead only when we stop talking about them
Only when we forget to remember
When we forget the ways they made us smile
I’m telling you, man
The other day I was so happy
I was walking down the street thinking about how great this moment felt
How the sun couldn’t stop shining
How they should be here
And my face lit up like a lighthouse
Three random people said hi to me
They smiled back

Some of you are smiling right now

Hell, I had nothing but green lights for five city blocks
And i kept thinking, man
I felt so empty ten minutes ago
And then i thought of him
And grandma
And grandpa
And david
And tyree
And al
And sheila
And shannon
And george
And i closed my eyes and said thank you
Thank you
Thank you
for the sun
Speak Piece Poetry Project, Austin, Texas