Facebook friends are getting younger

‘Cause it’s their childhood I remember

That skinny kid on our school-bus

Was teased but never made a fuss

A square peg in a rounded hole

Taunting could have bruised his soul

But he grew up and l heard tell

He’d married and they’d managed well

 

His profile pic shows wear and tear

And aging’s greyed my new friend’s hair

An image looms inside my head

Of his father- now long dead

The darkroom way back in my brain

Develops ancient  film  again:

I am a child- they were our neighbors

We’d visit but their kids were babies

The mother laughed and joked and swore

The father’s words were just  ignored.

 

I’m sure he had a goodly life

After he divorced his wife.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Another Facebook friend was nine

In nineteen sixty-seven

We lived next door with my three kids

And friendships were a given

Our families fished the nearby creek

I don’t think that was legal.

But land-locked salmon tasted good

And finances were feeble.

One day we heard some plaintive screams

From woods along the creek

Two little girls, one was my friend,

They’d screamed ’til they were weak.

My little friend and stumbled on

A trapper’s