We greeted with
a handshake,
unsure if more
was appropriate.
It felt as if I
were gripping sandpaper.
I had always
said I’d find him someday,
but this is not
what I had imagined.
I remember
welcoming hugs,
and hearty
laughter.
I remember being
tossed into the air,
knowing with all
my heart he’d catch me.
I remember the
tickle monster,
who was
relentless with his attack,
always bringing
me to the brink of wetting myself.
I remember thinking
this is who I want to be when I grow up.
But now,
His choice of
cologne?
Whiskey.
His full head of
thick black hair,
now receding
with the grays
beating out the blacks for territorial dominance.
His once
infectious smile,
now infected.
White, black,
white, white, black.
He did always
like to play the piano.
I should have
left him lost,
Again, I would point to a couple of lines that are really powerful:
ReplyDeleteHis choice of cologne?
Whiskey.
I also like the contrast you make between white and black (and grays). The image of the piano is a great correspondence to this (white keys, black keys).
These are powerful images.