Evening Poetry, March 29

Old Friends

by Freya Manfred

Old friends are a steady spring rain,

or late summer sunshine edging into fall,

or frosted leaves along a snowy path–

a voice for all seasons saying, I know you.

The older I grow, the more I fear I’ll lose my old friends,

as if too many years have scrolled by

since the day we sprang forth, seeking each other.

Old friend, I knew you before we met.

I saw you at the window of my soul–

I heard you in the steady millstone of my heart

grinding grain for our daily bread.

You are sedimentary, rock-solid cousin earth,

where I stand firmly, astonished by your grace and truth.

And gratitude comes to me and says:

“Tell me anything, and I will listen.

Ask me anything, and I will answer you.”

You can find this in ""“>Loon in Late November Water.

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