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
Leave a Reply