The Color of Friendship

At the corner of King and Far West Street A newly arrived German family They'd given birth to one We were twelve or thereabout I saw her in twilight of Hit Parade on radio Belize I'd just walked barefoot from my yard Never made it to Jim, the grocer next door. I was face to face with newness of life Eyes like a pussy cat, she pulled me Half devoured me with her embrace She squeezed as if to savor joy I was pissed she dared to seize me Caught me off guard I smelled the smell of evening rose, but Could not chase the fog that vied for her warmth I knew not the color of friendship Dark chocolate, white hands Blues by the Caribbean Sea. *