Friends On Belvidere
There we were, all together again.
Some there we had not seen for decades.
There was still a recognition,
But the gray hair, the bent postures,
The weight gain, the heavy jowls…
But when we were all together,
On that glorious Summer evening
Backyard bar-b-q, drinks, dinner conversation,
That’s when the magic happened.
We were suddenly transported back in time!
It was 1978 all over again.
The house on Puget Sound.
The upstairs apartment in the subdivided house.
Alice in her Bo Peep costume
And Alpha, the unshorn poodle, her sheep.
Or the big house at 3708 41st Ave SW
Full of people in that wonderful kitchen.
Drinks in hand, passing the pipe.
Speakers blaring and Da Fish
Spinning the tunes.
Or the double-wide in Rochester,
The place where everybody was told
To just drive down the pock-marked dirt road
Until they were sure they were lost,
And then go 100 ft farther and they were there.
Or on the island with a pirate, a rainbow, Peter Pan…
Standing in the room next to the big loom.
Venturing out to the Sound
Whose depth we knew was deep
But a ways out toward Southworth.
There, in the backyard on Belvidere
It was like time travel.
The decades melted away completely.
We were right back where we had been
The last time we were together.
That seems to me to be the magic
Of good friendships.
That time machine of feelings.
And we were certainly good friends, that.
All growing while not changing one bit.
And, still, as tight-knit as we were,
There was room for new husbands,
Assimilation and elevation to full status
So that, next time, these newcomers would be old friends, too.
Almost like the borg on Star Trek!
© Richard A. Martin, Jr. MD, CPC 2016
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