Trudging knee-high in leaves
discarded shelter now food for soil
The passing of time long arduous
and fleeting all at once
We wish for high winds
to carry all away
And when they do come
blow our hearts out of our chests
Maddening deafness except
the blind chatter of our minds
and the crunch swish crunch
of fallen foliage at our feet
Trek on still
with our eyes set forward
Lest we cackle like mad men
in the unforgiving forest of
Your subtle entry encased in smallish chit-chat
similar musical interests and a love of photography
my chilled white wine next to your pink Cosmopolitan
The infancy of a grave friendship
Oh, the concerts we attended!
The lush green park that day when we photographed
the crooked wooden fence and the giant knot on the oak
You were never ready when I picked you up
You asked which shoes looked best
the tall leather boots or the black strappy heels?
No longer matronly
Oh, the dance floors we graced!
I still have those dancing shoes
the ones tossed on your living room floor
on lazy days by the karaoke machine
I remember that conversation on the phone
tracing the rough edges of a stone wall
while you cried for the twentieth time
All the times I talked you down from the edge of darkness
All the times you did the same
The divorce, the deaths, the foreclosures, job losses
My hands acquainted with your belongings in boxes
more than once
Your car full of my office supplies
transporting them when the business failed
Oh, the parties we hosted!
Your famous macaroni
you made sure to include a vegetarian dish
I made sure there were no nuts in my famous slaw
You never ran out of wine
Afternoon movies sitting in the back row
Five times we strolled the beach
You never liked yourself in a bathing suit
Then the wine became sour
the Cosmo tainted
I winced when the phone rang
I couldn't talk you down anymore
You didn't like who I'd become
all of a sudden
Jealousy, competition, disgust
miscommunication, anger, judgement
These are the wicked that turned it toxic
Senility came to our friendship
and it exited with harsh words and sobbing
The waiter gave me a look
as I was making a scene
The dying plant you gave me is green as spring
its vines entrenched in the ground
and crawling up the slats of the picked fence
Your photographs are still in my frames
But I cannot listen to Blondie anymore.
–Some friends are meant to stay and some are meant to fly away.
I believe we are here to connect with each other.
But some connections are better off severed.
We can mourn this loss but we can also learn from it.