To Ian

Sometimes
you mislay a friend
for a time, or forever,
but the memories stay.

Those were the days of possibility.
Youthful opportunity whispered it’s promise,
while I whirled by, blinded, unlistening
with weak pretence at innocence.

I couldn’t feel the deepest cuts,
the days before the dye was cast.
Recent wounds suppurated prettily,
giving me a flavour of mystery and depth.
I
squeezed
my
grazed flesh,
revealing pink disease —
pathetically thinking I had nothing
more interesting to offer sweet humanity,
and you treated me as if I was real,
never questioning whether I
had earned your respect.

I have always regretted
being such a careless friend —
sweeping away your feelings
as if they were unseen.

You never complained
or called me names —
you just
quietly
said
goodbye
and
went
away.

but today
you found me.
I smiled at the surprise —
your kind face a little aged
but otherwise the same.

No longer half a lifetime away,
so, connected by a facebook page
we will re-aquaint across the ether,
and maybe we will meet again,
and I will be your friend.

Dedicated to my dear friend ,
Ian Lee

©Jane Paterson Basil

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13 thoughts on “To Ian

    1. Thank you – Ian contacted me out of the blue, after thirty years. It’s given me a real boost. I tried for years to find him, but it was impossible, because her has such a common name, and I didn’t know where he was living.

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    1. It couldn’t upset me – I’m just happy to reconnect. As so often happens between the sexes, there was a trickiness to our friendship, and I showed little sensitivity. It had to come to the end. Fortunately I have consciously disposed of my physical allure, and with that out of the way
      life is simpler.

      Like

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