Poem: Re-write

Revisiting friends is always a mixed bag.


I went to see the longtime friends
who kept begging me to come
and found, just like a love remembered,
they’d turned to other things and forgot
the arguments of their invitation

So it was dicey on both our parts
and somehow or another, we fought
over the least important things
we had in common, like kids,
who won’t give up a toy that neither wants

Maybe we care too much, see too little
of the time right now, clouded by before
The days when nothing meant a damn,
except the bunch of us, and we’re
no longer bunched, but spilled, like apples

What pulls us on, seems to pull away as well
Sometimes I feel as though I’d forgot my lines,
bumped into furniture and wandered off,
confused, leaving stage-right instead of left
Someone may yet notice and rewrite my script
Poetry Collection: Corner of My Mind
This poem is included in
Jim Freeman's
poetry collection

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