I don’t know what I’d do if Mary went away.
We didn’t start off as friends:
just a nod at one of her many personas.
The Offspring on the cassette player;
the Gatekeeper drove the car whilst
he held your hand. You held everyone’s hand.
That night mine weren’t shaking (nor sweaty).
I met you again behind the Sunshine Bus,
under perennial protection,
far too close to the front door.
We didn’t notice or didn’t care and let ourselves
be engulfed by sporadic salvation.
You came along when I stayed overnight
in the house on the shady side of the river bank.
Relegated to the dank patio I realised
that our host disliked what others would think
about knowing you, without dialogue.
He found you attractive but avoiding
a choir of gossip
must have been prime motivator to be mean.
I called a taxi. I never went back.
We picked up again years later
when you showed up in a pub
with an opportunist trying to be discreet.
Social butterfly you must be; not just a temptress.
The man and I agreed that you could be
a good listener. The man was a little clueless,
but he knew enough.
He chose salt and vinegar,
gave me the bag as a gift.
Not accepting presents from strangers,
I made my excuses and paid for the crisps.
We had not fully bonded yet,
whereas now, we are almost one.
As stories go, this is where the one about
meeting Mary ends and loving her begins.
#poem #poetry #napowrimo2017 #glopowrimo2017
#story #mary #tale #beginning #friendship