I'm here because you're here and when you go I'm going too      As neutral as snow covering up violence your mind was   smashing its gear like The Who by rote at good ol Monterey   where some people cheered and some looked away   and your best words the most economical and clear to   the ear are nullified and kept   by mum protectors of a suicide note but the best part of cold   is faraway is close and the distant bark of a lone snow shovel   digging out after the storm is a rhythmic whisper      I'm here because you're here and when you go I'm going too