Friend (Poetry)

The years pass and you never get any older —
old friend
while time sits heavily on me —
age gets me down
with all its losses stacking higher like a debt
I cannot pay.

It’s three years now, and counting
all the ways
of remembering in case I should forget
one thing of value —
salvaging whatever I have left
of who you were.

Missing you is only half the tale —
it fails to tell
of what remains — that struggle every day
to come to terms
with something so difficult to accept
the shock stays fresh.

This grieving for our friendship seems at times
too sentimental —
self-pitying this wish for what’s been lost —
but who is there
to talk to now about those times we shared?
I still have days

when I’m caught up with needs — I travel back
they way we came
to find the childhood friend you always were —
unchanged —
dependable and true — so, long ago is where
I’m saving you.