the colour of our lives

poetry • celebration • faith • nature • humanity • imperfections • glory

seven ways to miss a friend

How does this work;
finding out, only now he’s gone,
that you loved a man?

Looking back, the clues are there,
out-of-season fruit hanging
in the still-existent past:

One; shared likes. Rocks and stuff.
Fishing (but he actually liked the fishing part,
maybe more, even, than the fresh air)

Two; the Professor thing. Sure, he was
teasing. But in a good way; a blokey
affirmation; a challenge.

Three; the other brainy stuff. We spent
enough time in each other’s company that
his wild ideas annoyed me sometimes.

Four; family. His wife’s a kissing friend;
I cuddle his infant son. Their daughter slept
a night in my house; he gave mine passionfruit.

Five; passion and integrity.
He lived  and said what he believed, and
mostly that scared the skin off me.

Six; the food. (Simple, but true).
Chilli and rice, tea and wine at the long table.
Kids weaving between conversations.

Seven; faith. We are chased by the
same God. Josh sees Him more clearly
now, but maybe he always did.

Last real revision: 11 November 2008

 

 

 

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2 thoughts on “seven ways to miss a friend

  1. For some reason I read these stanzas in reverse
    order and I loved it.

    • Thanks Evelyn. Wow, you’re reading back a long way. I’m flattered and very pleased. When Josh died (not his real name) our group of freinds was totally shocked for about a year, maybe longer. We still meet, in much the same way, and have mostly moved on, but the tears are still there in the background.

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