Letters to a Friend

[emilywritescrap]

Dear Friend,
I oft had thought that we were
fruits of the same tree:
with a thick, yet spongy exterior,
a mushy center, and strong seeds.
And though I saw your stem
withering away in the heat,
crying out to all of them
(and as well, to me),
I could not grab you in time
and you dropped to the bright green sea.
The last words you used
- before the fall -
I was unaccustomed to;
could not understand at all.
And I wonder
just
wonder
had someone saved you in your descent
(as someone had saved me),
would you have said, half-broken, half-bent,
that you were happy?
Dear friend, how alike were we?