Moody Blues . . .
Just to think I never would have known you
beneath banana Tuesdays
and
moody Mondays
had your spirit not caught mine
on that breezy day in March
when your ill wind cruised my back screen door
and knocked a few times
for good measure
and
I opened that damned door without thought
and made you afternoon lemon tea.
Funny how the temperature of ink does
cool when truth slips the surly bonds
and promises slide
stutter
break
shatter
on the sidewalk
cold.
Like.
You.
'Friend.'
Copyright © Jill Martin | Year Posted 2006
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