Needing

He was not young When we first met And he grew old quickly As I watched time Weathering the lines on his face Slowing his once quick gait Into a carefully paced walk That after a time, clicked As the cane dropped Just slightly ahead Of his failing right foot Even though he was a dear friend As time went on its way I began to see him less and less Not because I didn’t care for him But because I did And seeing him gnarled away By the passing of time Was much, much more Than my friendship could bear In the end he was gone While my sadness Was compounded by the fact I didn’t have the courage To watch him grow old Never realizing That in the end I needed him much more Then I would tell myself He needed me