through misty nights and starless skies,

those years by the kitchen sink,

or pancaked mornings, burning bright,

sit we would, over a drink,

over childhood days and childless hearts,

upon tears over us or prettier things,

caught your gaze, once or twice

when Mary chased me over to a scary brink

of what, now, I fail to recall

as I fail to recall many links

remember, when once, on a green afternoon

you lulled in sleep over chicken wings,

and now I lie among roses ******,

for Johns, Coopers and other things

and now we can be forever friends,

and forever lean by kitchen sinks.