I wrote this poem nearly two years ago, while thinking of a friend I'd been talking to almost daily for about a month. Away from home for a few days, I kept thinking of things to share with my friend.
I've since found (or noticed) that I often think of things I'd like to share with certain friends. Sometimes there's not time enough to say (or write) it all. Sometimes I think it might be enough that these friends are in my thoughts. But I know that sometimes they need to know how much I think of them.
This is for all those friends I think of often, and for all the ones who still come to mind after years of separation.
Dear Friend
6-16-03
How is it that my mind can wander
yet always be reminded of you---
little things pointing me
in your direction. I want to tell you
what I saw today: sunlight
tilted across the field, illuminating
every dust particle and insect.
All the flaws were beautiful.
I want to remember what I thought
yesterday, and that dream I had
last night---was it in color? I want
to tell you before I forget, I want you to
remember for me. I want to tell you
about the deer in the field, the flat tire,
the fire, the mosquitoes and the rain.
I want to tell you about my bad moods,
my loss of humor, my pain.
I am not always irresistible;
I wonder how you put up with me;
I wonder why we are friends.
You must have things to tell me too.
© 2003 April K Szuch
It's the small details of life I usually want to share. The bugs, the rain, the child I saw on the way to work who made me laugh. The words that come to mind to describe something or other.
Things like this, of today:
...watching a cloud erase itself from the sky,
frost on a morning windowpane,
ice on a spring pond
Recent Comments