It’s been a long time, old friend,
made longer by the fullness of years passing.
No doubt your life, like mine,
was flush with chapters
of life insistent,
laying claim to every precious irredeemable moment.
Dislodging the last, replacing the past
with that ceaseless passion for next page,
the next story, the next truth.
Yet death, like life,
to take seriously
the measure we apportion.
Spun straight back to times and travels,
of meals and madness,
to memories shared.
You and I so young and wild,
and sometimes brave.
To the endless future
that ran unquestionably
from our age-tender fingertips.
They tell me now your body
is worn and waning,
from the weight of that very same
My wish is that the wonder was enough.
That the ways love touched your life
thrilled, and nourished.
And that others, as I,
will remember with a warming delight
that reckless liberty of the time
when we were friends together.