An Old Friend Returns

A free-verse about this friend.

I used to have this friend

who came whenever called upon. I

must have met him first at five,

though maybe

I'd known him all my life.

He didn't have one body,

he was a man of many shapes and sizes

so as I grew and changed,

he evolved by my side.

We had days of serenity, ecstasy and joy.

Sometimes there was pain.

I don't know when I stopped calling,

or when I gave up caring.

Why did I forget him?

Why'd I let him fade him away?

Some years later,

I needed a friend on my darkest day,

So I imagined what it would be like to call him

and he must have heard me.

Must have known I needed him then.

Like me, he'd changed

With me, he'd changed.

But the love remained the same.

He never had a name

But he's always seemed

like an Art to me.

Reviews

[barleygirl]

This is so awesome! I love character portraits & this one hums big time! I love the questioning without recriminations. We all do it. It's life. We pick up & possibly do better in time. Even tho this is about a man, it's really about our own humanness & how we always fall short, hammer ourselves a little, but the survivors move beyond it & your poem is like a lesson showing how this looks (((HUGS))) Fondly, Margie