My Friend
I would have liked nothing better
than to lie with with you, my friend.
Not out of love,
but admiration for the depth and beauty of your soul.
Not out of love,
but in gratitude for arousing a waning thirst for life.
And, yes,
I would have liked nothing better
than to lie with you for passions sake alone,
but Fall and Winter’s mismatched roads
must needs diverge
to nothing more than affable affection.
And so,
I wept for you
before you even knew you were going.
I wept for
Kismet’s sorrowful jest, for
Time’s cruel and twisted hoax.
And I wept for me,
but then rejoiced
that someone touched my soul
Copyright © Gail Roberts | Year Posted 2014
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