Sunday Sonnet: Gary Is Gone

T

his is where gary sat just outside the
dining room this is where his friend betty
sat with her cherry red walker i called
it her sports car gary shook hands like a man
every sunday for years we shook hands
and he would notice when i limped and when
my limp got better betty says “i guess
you know” and i ask “know what?” squatting down
in front of her ruby red ferrari
she says “gary went to the hospital
and he died” and i stumble out “i'm sorry”
while cupping her hands for just a twinkling
since they're swollen up with arthritis
gary is gone and his hands fold up inside us