I write poetry. And I don't really like sharing it with people, mostly because I'm kind of afraid that they'll laugh at what goes through my head. But I decided that if I can face my fear of heights, I can face my fear of literary criticism. So I think that for today's post, you're getting a poem I wrote last night, after my friends Shorty and Calvin stopped by. So here you go.

I saw some old friends,
                last night.
They were kind enough to
                drop by.

And we stood
                awkwardly
in my hall
                 and talked
like things hadn't changed.

But they had.

And as we laughed
                  too loudly
I happened to look
                   at the patio
Where I saw spectres,
                   more,
Waiting their turn
                     for a chance at life.

We laughed and talked
                    quietly
not wanting to invite
                    silence
into our midst.

"Groovy"
                        "Goshdarnit"

"Sweetie-lambkin"
                         "Lost puppies!"


We talked and laughed
                   and I was happy
beyond words.

The thrill of life
The joy of company
the hope of laughter
                       Reborn.

Yes, I was happy.
                       It was good to be alive
last night when my old friends
                       dropped by.