Friday, August 12, 2011



By Madeline Sharples

They came in droves at first
Out of concern, out of curiosity
They sent flowers, cards
And sweet notes saying
Call anytime
Anytime at all.

Now it is quiet.
A few friends
Invite us out,
Or come by
The rest have moved on
Glad to have done their duty
They now have nothing left to say.

Don’t they know I’m not contagious
My son’s death will not rub off on them
I’m the same person I was before.
A sadder person, perhaps
But needing my friends
Just the same.

Reprinted from “We Need Not Walk Alone” Summer 2001

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