At the end of this Thanksgiving weekend, I went looking for an old poem that was coming back to me. I feel the same way today as I felt then about my old friends. This one’s for you.
My Old Friends
Memories bubble light to the surface
Pockets of air in a pool—
A word, a gurgle of laughter returns
And picks up the day like a kite.
You come back to me, my old friends
When I least expect to see you,
There you are in a sideways glance
In a tone that strikes a familiar note
The rustle of a dress, the turn of a phrase
That suddenly makes the world less strange.
As light as you are, you anchor me
With your fond ways,
Ways that I unwittingly
Reserved to uncap today.
All the tortured anxieties
Settle in the sand
What we thought we could never forget
Disintegrates, and what is made
Of nothing but air
Rises out of the living lake …
We sip champagne. Bubbles
Lapping up the glass
Tickle my lips and make them smack
Yours would have smacked that way …
Where have I felt those sparkling eyes
Sparkle back—yeah, I know
My cheeks are burning like they burned for you
Oh my stars, how was I so lucky tonight
To have you all around me dancing,
My old friends.
1985
Old friends. One’s who have been around forever and those that are now actually Old! Wizened, earthed, crinkedy with aged endurance. Velveteen Rabbits surrounding you. Blessed are you by that surround. Blessed are they by this circle of forever.
Lovely.
You already had Old Friends in 1985? Must have, what a rich poem. So true and so beautiful a share. Let’s uncap some again soon! Yes! a clutch or warren of aging but real Rabbits 🐇 we are.
Yep, we get to this age and our button eyes and fur are getting worn down and rubbed off but there’s a distinctive glow that’s becoming visible. Thanks for your comments, wabbits! ❤️