Wednesday, March 22, 2023

"An Old Friend"

She’s an old friend,   
just a co-worker now—an acquaintance   
We smile when we pass in the hall   
We share complaints about classes, victories with kids   
Lately, she’s lost her smile   
Her usual elegance fades    
Her eyes, downcast as she walks, miss my smiled greetings   
Someone whispers a rumor   
asks what I know—me, the ostrich with her head in the sand   
I look around   
Suddenly I see her loss   
realize her shock and grief   
Stunned, I see them together—       
as she must see them, too       
He sniffs around the other woman like she’s a bitch in heat       
They drive up in the same car       
step out for lunch       
stand together in the hallway       
flirtatiously laughing       
body language that screams—Couple       
What words can I offer?       
advice, as they say, is cheap   
How do I let her know I care   
without letting her painfully realize—   
I know   
(just like everyone else)   
I can talk to her, try to listen, try to be around just a little more   
Her other friends and I can form a safety net   
but we can’t protect her from anger, loss, grief   
We see it in her eyes  
in the way she moves now   
I remember another time when she had no net   
her loss almost killed her    
So, I’ll stand guard




Copyright 1999 Elizabeth Abrams Chapman

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