In Memoriam

somehow your
moving forward
is leaving me behind
because you've traded the quirkiness
of always filling my glass
of water from your kitchen sink
for a water pitcher, with a filter,
no less,
though you still manage to take a swig
from your sink
every now and again

this thing that you do
that no one else does
brings me muted comfort

though you've traded that old
uncared for phone
and slow E.T.T.
(estimated time of text)
for the newer, sleeker model
faster texts
and the risk of becoming
like every other person
whose Blackberry
sleeps in their bed

somehow, I am disquieted
by the newness you adopt
which runs the risk
of leaving the eccentric
alone
only relished
in memory.