for my friend Dallas
Known, though not at once identified
(the news came later) your shadowy presence
lifted me from sleep, your spirit waking mine.
***
The only other bedside we ever shared
was a hospital one, when I came to visit
your newborn son and his mother.
Though ours was not a physical love,
you surprised me one time —
a light goodbye kiss.
You were being transferred.
Letters at least were free, until the years
of your sentence elapsed.
What was real, we decided gradually: you
untrusting, wary; me uncertain ... at that first
prison poetry workshop, 40 years gone.
A revision of an earlier version which I thought was too lacklustre to adequately commemorate this long and dear friendship.
It's an important poem to me, because it was an important relationship. I'd love feedback on how it's working now, e.g. do you think it needs more detail, more explanation?
Sharing with Friday Writings #162 at Poets and Storytellers United.
