Where now, Polly?

This post is in memory of a beloved professor, Rich DuRocher, who lived from Sept. 2, 1955, until Nov. 16, 2010. I only wish I had a better poem to offer him.

Today I went about my business -
The wakings, the risings,
A meeting to talk of my future
A quick snack
Laughter at a misunderstanding,
and you died.
You died as the sun
rose and the frost melted,
As the birds flew south in
their asymmetrical V,
As he and she walked the
street, tripped, smiled, sobbed,
As I fell in and out of love,
Whispered in the dark and
wondered what would come of it all.
And I thought, as I passed
the bins of garbage and newspaper,
of cartons and glass,
that life is really
sorry and joy, comingled.