Agenda

Marcus: dead 12 years I write 

in my new agenda at the date of 
April 22 and I remember again how
you died and how I told my mother 
the news. How she sat and looked.

Every year again I write it down.
Every year your dead gets older.

When I write it down the day is still empty.
Later when I read it you are in between my appointments,

more quiet than you were before, but less fragile.
I also write down your birthday.

The 25 years between your birth and death 
are close together in my agenda.

First you die. Then you get born.