Where Are Those Friends?

This poem emerged from my ongoing (never-ending?) archiving project. I’m sure it reflects a widespread feeling.

Where are those friends

who have drifted downstream

so far from our still grinding mill?…

The first grade best friend

who built with me

castles of sand,

That summer camp comrade

who told me

why parents sleep

doubled in bed,

The roommate in college

who heard of our meeting

that breathless first time,

My best friend that year

when we broke up

and made up

and tiptoed on fragments

of innocence,

The bridesmaid who fainted in heat

from those summer day kisses

that sealed our promises,

Where have they gone

on that river downstream

where the ocean receives all the water

that powers our mill?

4 thoughts on “Where Are Those Friends?”

  1. Thank you, Thomas! I didn’t see the connection but happy that you got this gift. I’m also glad that you are still visiting the old mill, not to mention the old apartment. Many blessings,

  2. Bill,
    I just noticed that you posted this lovely poem on my birthday! What a beautiful thought to have on one’s birthday and thank life for all its ebb and flow! Taking one more step toward that “Ocean” that powers our mill! Thank you my friend.

  3. I got two Facebook laughs in all. This is a pre-tech poem, I guess. On the other hand, it causes us to think about whether we can ever have a friend apart from the total context in which they became our “friend.” The loss of the context is the loss of the full meaning of that friend. Facebook is a different context with its own parameters. Maybe that’s why they don’t use the older word “befriend.” Something has been lost.
    Thanks for your comments!

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