The lines of memory

curve in time,

deepening with some later realization.

I thought I was once watching

some guy in his cups

piss people off for a year,

before I first really talked to him.

And found out he was probably right.

That was a window we could both look out.

But when the dark hand got dealt to him,

I saw through a window I only thought I knew.

My friend did a slow fade,

bearing pain with the elegance

of some quiet strength

I had never guessed.

And kicked my ass

in every notion I ever had

about a man who could love life

with both a reckless grace

and profound reverence.

It's pointless to curse myself

for things we only planned

before another plan got in the way.

Because he reshaped memories

I now hold forever,

all curved deepened and resonant,

I offer him this toast,

for all he gave to me:

"Here's to Dave Moseley,

a guy who will always sit by my side."