One for Each Decade and Another for Good Luck

My oldest friend is 70 today.
We met when we were each around 15.
Precocious we agreed about the way
to analyze our lives for what they mean.
I know there were some differences between
us, but we recognized we were adults
at 5, impelled to strive, our courses keen
and disparate, to similar results.

(Huitain)

This entry was posted in Aging, Love, Poetry and tagged , . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a comment