Old Friend

It cheers me to think of her camping–
setting up her easel–
her camp stove
having coffee with neighbors
totally at ease wherever she is.

It gives me hope for myself
marching to the beat
of my own drummer
as she does.

How I miss the comfort of her being–
comfy as an over-stuffed chair
soft in her smile —
her connection to others–
heart centered.

How opposite we are–
how drawn I am to her.