Once friend.
We were a threesome,
kindred poets.
The Three Musketeers
had nothing on us.
Wine and talk
in your flat,
she and I escaping
children, husbands, pets.
Wicked laughter, gossip
and literary theory.
Then you found cause
to sneer at me,
when the Human
Potential Movement
got me too.
Our third Musketeer
I lost; she
found me again.
Your poisoned words
failed to destroy.
[Poem #24]
This began as a game some bloggers played in 2008, to write about people who'd made an impact, in the same number of words as one's age, every day for a year. I did them less often and went on longer, adding one word each birthday. I stopped in 2016 and incorporated them into my main poetry blog. In 2019 I resumed the project and gave it its own blog again, with a new name, where it may unfold at its own (slow, intermittent) pace. I've labelled these verse portraits, but they're more like quick sketches: mere glimpses, impressions....
Comments from original posting:
ReplyDeleteBev Sykes 24 July 2008 at 20:09
It's terrible to feel betrayed by a friend. I know the pain.
Rosemary Nissen-Wade 24 July 2008 at 20:15
Thanks for the empathy!
The thing is, my friend felt betrayed by me, hence the reaction. I had become someone different from who I'd been - or so it appeared. I don't think it excuses the venom, though.