Eight years ago, you left this earth.

I no longer ask why.

Nor do I remember the drugs

They found in your body.

Declared an accidental death

It no longer matters if it was

Suicide or not.

You were addicted to drugs,

To alcohol, to taking chances

All to cover the pain and loneliness

You had inside.

An overdose, a collision, an altercation

Waiting to happen.

What can you say about a life

That has gone terminal

Other than to remember

You for the things you loved:

Your dog, climbing very tall trees

So you could sway with the wind.

Watching the sun streak the sky

In pinks and yellows and red

Until only the dark night remained.

You loved poetry that spoke of

Caring for rivers and the earth.

You said you would never leave

The place you loved, our family home.

You are still there

Ashes scattered beside your dog

Beneath the palms you wanted to plant,

Both giants now giving refuge

To birds and lizards and bugs

And the memory of you.