A Platonic Love Poem

He remembers the plot,
The characters, the essence
Of every Zane Grey book
He has ever read
Sixty or seventy years ago.

I cannot recall the plot
The characters, the essence
Even the title, of the book
I read yesterday

I am old.
Eighty-six next birthday
And he is eighty-eight.
I can outrun him
(Well, out walk, I should say)
Each of us still has
A few good body parts.