Two score and more around the sun
Winged chariots I’ll not outrun
My hubris wanes along with hope
Save slightest chance that helps to cope.

I could have been more happy here
Had many friends not disappeared
I know too well the fault’s my own
That I can´t choose to be alone.

I once was young and time no mind
The best of friends weren’t hard to find
I searched their faces everyday
We reveled in our endless play.

Recall that time at Murphy’s dam
Or Willie and the big grand slam
Our youthful legs on football fields
Before we`d lose, we`d leave on shields.

The nights we spent discussing Freud,
Or picturing the pre-bang void.
The countless strings at which we grasped
Whose failing glued our friendship fast.

We sighed and spoke of trips to be
Of storied lands across the sea,
The drift of life might keep us home
But souls astir were free to roam.

To know if we had gone to war
And been attached to Thirty Corps
All shivered in the mud and stench
Our lives were one inside the trench.

I fathomed then that things would change
The world I knew knew I was strange
The sirens always calling me
Still beckoned though I tried to flee.

I sometimes think it’s not too late
To try again to wipe the slate
My voice calls out to muffled ears
To best-forgotten early years.

Does strong love need dismiss the past,
Or mock things which were meant to last,
Were feelings then not just as real,
Once heartfelt words now empty spiel?

But time and distance do their work
Their presence in each friendship lurks
The willful blind to former lives
Like business friends or anxious wives.

At times I sense their ghostly touch
And think perhaps I think too much
I turn to see if someone’s there
To grasp at things while others stare.

Lodged deep inside my wit´s recess
Are thoughts I rarely can address
Of Master Jack and youthful friends
And nameless love I won’t defend.

Copyright © 2000 Paul Heno