Dave's Mental Meanderings
Poem - "Getting High with My Friend"
“Getting High with My Friend”
The dog days of summer find me this year
With a mixed bag of tricks up my sleeve,
Benevolent forces and ragged war horses,
The latter reluctant to leave.
If you peek through the haze on these hot swampy days
You couldn’t be sure what you’d find,
I can play all the roles, though some take their tolls
On the haggard of spirit and mind.
By random chance a quick passing glance
Might reveal a renegade rebel,
Walking on water and playing with fire
While dancing a jig with the devil.
With another such look you might have mistook
This human form for a ghost,
Listless and gray with each dragging day,
Feeling fear and loathing at most.
But once and a while you might find a smile
Beneath the sweltering sun
Adorning this face with unlikely grace,
Loving and living for fun.
And if you gazed down today, I’m happy to say
This is the face that you’d find,
I’m high as a kite, and fly further I might,
Unbothered by burdens unkind.
Escaping defeat and fresh on my feet,
But things got rough for a while,
Past the anger and yearning and unholy burning,
I’m re-learning again how to smile.
On the heels of the ugliest landscape I’ve seen
In three hundred sixty-five days,
There appeared in my path a pillar of grace
In the barren midsummer haze.
A crystal vision took the place of a blur
And I saw my angel of peace,
Simply the sight of her smile sufficed
To remind me the bad times would cease.
Two old friends brought together again,
Swept up in anticipation,
Helping each other along all the way
Like a three-legged race to salvation.
For just a few days before parting ways
We danced like no one could see,
We smiled and laughed, recalling the past
As it must have been destined to be.
Carefree fun, sitting out in the sun,
And a trip into town for the day,
High all the while, for the illegal smile
Always knows just what to say.
When Sunday came I awoke to my name
Being called as she walked out the door,
She left me for now, but I’m left knowing how
To smile for what’s still in store.
I’ll see her in time when this shiny new rhyme
Has gathered some dust on my shelf,
And until my friend comes to see me again
There’s no shame getting high by myself.