Good Neighbor Missed

My ex neighbor, six years younger
went on yesterday to meet his maker.
His name was Bruce, his wife’s is Nan.
He was a powerful, tall, always friendly man.

I’ve missed his smile, that next-door warmth
since my wife and I moved on far down south
to Mexico, behind a high brick wall
where neighbors are seen not as much now at all.

Bruce cut the grass and Nan tended flowers.
In spring they would work in their yard for long hours
Later he, without shirt, in the hot, humid weather;
she in her shorts, they were perfect together.

We knew them both just a few good years but
word of his death brought us both to tears.
How often does one find a friend ‘cross the lane
whose loss can instill such long-lasting pain?

Not much we can do for Nan from down here
and nothing more likely if we still lived up there.
So we’re left with thoughts and prayers, as they say
and the hope that Nan will find a new day.

Fact is, there’s a reason for part of our fuss:
One day another might write this ‘bout us.

Story ID:	2582
Written by:	jim rambo (bio, contact, other stories)
Story type:	Poem
Location:	claymont delaware USA
Year:	2007
Person:	Bruce