Wednesday, June 2, 2021

Dear Old Friend



I keep you nameless

not because I don’t know your name

but because it got to be

a game we played

after a neighbor

from the Newcomer’s Club

dropped in as you and I were there

in my toy-strewn living room

wine glasses on the slate-topped table.


Daytime when other husbands were at work,

I introduced you as an old friend

to her dismay, wanting more.

From then on, it stuck

whenever we talked, and laughed.

But, after a few months

we took that right turn

and lost track of each other.


You may remember the baby

on my knee, same age as yours

in those earlier years

when you and your wife came to see us

in San Francisco, both families expatriates

from the Northeast. Albany followed for us,

Boston for you.


But that day, it was as if San Francisco

never happened,

Albany blew away in our clouds,

And the baby wasn’t drooling on my knees.



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