The Friends

 

At least once a year, I go through a phase of writing a poem a day. The other day while spring cleaning, I found a partiallty written journal with some of these poems from two years ago. One of them stuck out to me among the rest. I wrote this on April 14, 2023:

The Friends

I want the friends.

The friends that all pile onto a bed or couch and laugh about the smallest of things.

The ones that all show up at a park together and play like children.

Lay the blanket out, throw around frisbees, look for clovers.

I want the friends.

The friends that when life tries it's hardest to knock you down, they don't let it.

The ones that comfort you in ways they don't even know.

A tight hug, a kind word, a quick glance across the table.

I want the friends.

The friends that make it impossible to breathe, because you're laughing so hard.

The ones that gather at someone's house and fill the room with community.

Turn the music up and smell the dinner cooking.

I want the friends.

The ones that were once strangers and are now family.

* I'm happy to report that I have found "The Friends." 

Thank you for all you are to me.

I love you.

- Willa