Skip to content

my friend James

My friend is back in town, I wait for him in the cafe. He’s a year into teaching, poetry is reaching out to him
When my friend and I sit outside, the air is cold, and there are flecks of grey in his hair
My friend and I engage in tall talk over small lattes, his with almond milk. My friend is wearing a very Melbourne coat, he’s got new glasses, he’s marking young minds-
The thing about my friend is he always gave me hope, from Jesuit mass together in the Madonna office to the time he was in the cafe with an American poetry book, handing it to me hook, line and sinker
My friend is a thinker
He’ s a follower of Jesus, that lizard in the desert, of spine tingling Saints in the Cathedral
Nora stops to say hello, she’s like underwater coral in the reef with her new hairdo, schools of fish, the school holidays have brought my friend back to me.

Published inUncategorized