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Dear Friend
Folder:
Day This is a poem to my dear friend
Whom I have loved and lost and loved a thousand times
Whose red hair emblazoned fire to any stoic white walls
Like a sun but she still has salt water still dripping down her cheeks
As we cried and clung to each other
And there was only one secret I kept from you
The smeared stains of the white sheets on my pillows
Were evidence of a pain that I chose to live myself
And yes, sometimes
The yellow lines blurred
On the road.
And now I’m back with her
Somethings old and somethings new
Ancients memories and newborn laughs
Why was yoga always so funny?
Back to painting feeble fences in flip flops
As I think about the irony of the bulge in my Buddha belly
Back to the letting the good times roll like a good song,
Back when both of us felt like we had something else to live for, other than to keep the other away from bridges
This is to my friend whom I have loved and lost and loved a thousand times.
