My Life Sits with Me Like an Old Friend (Richard Blanco)
That’s the way I use to think of my cigarettes,
a companion I could always turn to–
that would be with me no matter what.
And now what is it, cigs abandoned decades ago?
My ability to get lost in learning,
which book to read next,
exploring my endless enchantment with words,
striving to write the perfect poem.
5 thoughts on "My Life Sits with Me Like an Old Friend (Richard Blanco)"
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I love it.
That’s a good friend to have, Pat. A keeper.
I feel the same way. Great poem!
I love this too–a hopeful poem, striving.
So simple and beautiful.