here and there
Well. I might be growing up but I still carry the same bad habits.
some of them,
anyway.
the day grows late. And I play twangy blues grass.
I am reminded of phone calls, you far away in california or new orleans or some place else, and trying to imagine your exact location.
You outside a bar, by a brick wall, crouched near the ground listening and listening.
The huge faith you had in me.
There are days I just wish I could call you up. and it would be like no time had passed, and I would tell you all the ways I feel myself getting older. and we would laugh and talk about what it meant. and drink coffee.
I miss you. my friend. I hope you know it.
some of them,
anyway.
the day grows late. And I play twangy blues grass.
I am reminded of phone calls, you far away in california or new orleans or some place else, and trying to imagine your exact location.
You outside a bar, by a brick wall, crouched near the ground listening and listening.
The huge faith you had in me.
There are days I just wish I could call you up. and it would be like no time had passed, and I would tell you all the ways I feel myself getting older. and we would laugh and talk about what it meant. and drink coffee.
I miss you. my friend. I hope you know it.