[No One Would Have Noticed Had I Not Showed Up]

No one would have noticed had I not showed up.
People were surprised and seemed pleased to see me.

Nods from heads swiveling in pre-service
reconnaissance, shouldered neighbors

heads turning, faces smiling, in recognition: I
don’t socialize with my co-workers, go to staff

meetings, holiday parties, though I’m cordial
when necessary and always friendly with many.

I rarely, as in today makes the fourth time
in twenty-five years, am in a room

with co-workers when we are not working.
The hired string quartet stopped, a priest

walked to the altar, the service started.
I was unashamedly tearful

when and where I’m trained to be tearful.
The chapel was beautiful, small and large

with stain-glassed sunlight. My friend helped me
when I needed him, I think he needed me
   

when I helped him. At the reception
people I haven’t seen in years,  people

I see every workday, sought me out,
me, I know it might not sound sincere,

I never imagined any of them seeking me out
as more than a colleague, me, dope, 
  
at a memorial service for a co-worker
who helped save my life, and me his.