Lost in the woods

It's 4 a.m.
My friend from college is dead.

A professor and department head
at a large university,
married 45 years,
three children
two grandchildren,
widely published
in financial journals,
it said in the obit
in the Boston Globe.
There was a photo of him
at the helm of his yacht.

My ex and I were godparents
to one of his daugthers,
back when I was normal.
It's been so long,
I can't remember her name.

We started at the same place,
Jon and I,
fishing from a dam
upstream from the campus.
He stayed on the pavement,
I wandered down
to a path obscured
by twigs and leaves.