Friday, February 4, 2011

Friend

You were clear. I had never met someone,
adult or peer, who meshed with her living
so purely. I called myself Banana-
Man, and you accepted. That’s why playing
with you was so fun. You dressed as a crone—
and became one. All our make-believing
was simply making. No hesitation.
We blurted without fear of mistaking.

Once we even tried to play serious.
It was a blast before we went brittle,
left the highway and broke just a little.
One of us raged, the other outrageous.
We passed one stormy night. But we are us,
so it’s no surprise we came full circle.

2 comments:

  1. I love this poem, it is very tender.

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  2. Oh, yes! So sweet and true. - gerflash

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