Old Friendships
A poem
A poem
We were summer wildflowers once,
a tangle of roots,
petals unfurling toward each other’s warmth.
Now our stems bend with the weight
of many seasons.
Blossoms drop,
scattered by life’s passing winds.
Yet beneath the shifting soil,
those ancient roots remain
gnarled, tenacious, intertwined.
In autumn’s crimson light,
we bloom again, different
but holding fast
to what we know.
That to befriend another’s soul
is to welcome the world’s beloved
and ever-changing skins.
