To those who have graced my life with their presence and friendship. You know who you are. My rose-colored sentiment reaches out to touch your faces.

He sits in his den, writing to unseen friends

with fingers deftly reaching out through keyboard strokes

to other faces elsewhere – washing dishes,

rubbing the dog’s belly, changing diapers, making love –

he knows not what.

* * *

Will the clicking sound of these tiny letters

sufficiently churn his insides out? Reconfigure

his heart, itchy and bothered, his

stories, stale and old, too long in storage?

His ideas grown too certain for the pitch and yaw of good friendships?

* * *

Candles burn more quickly in good company,

their scent, unnoticed; their light, unheeded.

But their gentle presence is the necessary accoutrement of delight,

the required prelude to fellowship and laughter

in dimly lit rooms made lighter by other eyes.

* * *

In the intimations of the evening he gives a sigh

and with one last look at a screen, long dark,

he remembers. He steals from the back shelves

a glimpse or two of those he cannot see, rendered pink

in the red and white of dreams.

18 thoughts on “Remembering

    1. I feel this way especially in January when I used to be at MSFL residencies, either yearning to be in the program or with my peeps as part of the program. It’s been a tough transition out of it for me, I must say.

      1. Melissa Novak

        I can imagine…I’m excited to begin the MSFL program (tomorrow!) but leave behind a little group of my own peeps in doing so.

    1. Thanks, Seymour. Friendships become more precious every year for me. I suppose aging has something to do with that. But, frankly, I’ve come to see that I am who I am largely because of the company I have kept.

  1. Missing our times together as well, both in conversation and residencies. You captured both the grief and longing that my heart also knows too well. “In the shelter of each other we lived.”

    1. Ericka, in truth I have not transitioned as well as one would have hoped from Conspirator to non-Conspirator reality. It is generally difficult for me to find people who, quite frankly, are willing to deal with my eccentricities and shrug their shoulders at all my shit. You guys did that and loved me anyway. What’s not to love about and long for in that?

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