If I Need a Friend Maybe Run Acrostic
(from Bridge Over Troubled Water by Simon & Garfunkle)
If is such a weak word, it branches, crackling under foot.
You know it, but you use it to sing me into sleep, never suspecting
need dangles down upon my head, tickling and wrapping
a comforting hand upon my qualms. If lets you back out
friend, but you wait more patient than the coming of snow.
I'm me, its enough. My ifs and ands are more numerous than leaves
sailing as I kick them about. Leaves don't crackle, they weep
right into the concrete meaning of our existence. Uncertain moment
behind a closed door. Certain moment under a bed of dirt
like hugs from relatives you've never met before.
A friend though eclipses the daylight, becomes lightning to
bridge over or explode into laughter, where do I put them?
Over one shoulder like cast spilled salts? That seems sly,
troubled. Can I weave them together and have life?
Water offers that but slips away, how then bugs? Ducks?
I slip into water as easily as ifs are thrown into the winds.
Will my hair blow like an arrow toward fate or does chance
ease into icicles. They're weapons, ifs, ands, buts, maybes.
Your friendship is such, dressing and undressing like fashion
minds the sales racks. Still though, I'm glad that you and ifs are here.
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