Close Friend


Life, my closest friend.
You slip around me
the way of a nylon belt
on a stuffed waistline,
the way of suspenders
thrown over my
grandfather’s shoulders
in farm dawn.

We hug, but we also
snap and cling. I expect
you always near,
our days together
we count as one life.

I see this continuing
when all is gone,
when distant
agencies point out
our failure.

Our common interest in
one heart, our sharing the
the secret plans for parting.
Let’s find and uncover
ourselves firsthand.

This being scrutinized
for harmony slips away
when we turn together
in our sleeping.

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