the cool autumn breeze swept across me, my hair dancing across my face. i couldnt understand how to compensate for everything that had happened, for all the love i'd ever held inside, enstead of givig it to him, before he went to the morgue. i never really understood how people could be so mean to take the life of another person, to take them away from family and friends. the though sickens me just how cruel people can actually be to eachother. the shootings and drugs and murders and suicides. . .
it makes me sorrowful how somebody can walk up to a 14 year-old boy on a park bench and kidnap him, only to stick him in a fire pit used for cooing pottery . . . .

*****

i get out of my car, walking to were i know he'd be safe. i cross over from the asfault to the hot sand. i walk across two sand crabs watching the cattails swish back-and-fourth along thier lump of clay and mud on the beach. i walk to the shore line, waiting for the moment when the waves crash the shore just right, the perfect time for me to let him go. .
the cool beach water slowly swolows my feet.
"now" i say aloud, 'im crazy' shaking my head at myself.
i pop the lid off the chipping clay pot, i hold it up and throw the contents toward the ocean.
the black dust settles on top of the deep blue water and then sinks, allowing the ocean to engulf it.
i can no longer call it a him, for it is not a him, HE is in heaven with our maker, but this. . . this . . .dust, this dust is just the pot of the plant, the plant itself has moved on, and the pot will stay.
i will miss him, and i will always be resentful towards the cruel people, but remmember this:
' oh paul, you will never be lost
your body may be here with me, but you are never gone
i will always love you,
and i will see you once again,
it may be tommorrow
it may be in twenty years
but we will meet again
and i will be waiting my friend . . . '