Ode to a lost friend

"I just found out my best friend died."
Those were the words uttered as an excuse
For the overcharge at a local restaurant.
I hadn’t noticed a mood change
I didn’t see the verge of tears look on her face
I detected a quiet sniffle but nothing more
Her best friend just died

There will be an autopsy
Autopsies are never good
They refer to the OD’d, the beaten, the run off the road kills
They’re for the junkies and the villains
And the murder driven psychos. 
Not for best friends or daughters
Or dates for the prom.
Autopsies are for others.

You have to finish your shift.  
Going home is not an option
Being sad is not in the job description
Selling strudel and cakes,
And ringing up the guests and wursts
Of this charming gasthaus.
That’s what you’ll do until end of shift
When you can call your family, or other friends
To give them the news and sit with them in silence -
On opposite ends of the phone
Listening to the quiet of pain
Wondering what to say.
For there really aren't any words
To take away the shock.
"I just found out my best friend died."