A poem

At one in the morning, thereabouts,
you fell overboard and started to fight
Fight for your life, drowning
Your friend, did he push you in jest?
Relaxed by booze, you slid under
never to breathe again, your friend
Will live with that all his life, regret,
ten days before your remains were found
your mother, how will she ever stand again?
Published in The Lark