My friend Michelle once told me about the many spheres of friendships: she said there were friends you kept in your troposphere all your life; drifted friends whom you would re-meet with intense bouts of chemistry (this was Michelle and me); and friends who hovered around only long enough to help you through a finite port of trouble.
I would add to this those friends who help you fill the days, friends you don’t have anything more in common with than the proximity of togetherness in time. Although, something keeps you there beyond convenience—for here you learn about the dramas of prom dresses and invitation lists. You learn how to navigate boundaries around the obligations of brotherhood and goodwill, how to reconfigure after meltdowns in high school cafeterias.
Maybe you seem so similar for a time, your plans converging around an idea of the future like a virgin biosphere that is fragile and assailable to any other idea. You could talk it through, diagnose your ailments, map the trajectories of your cold wars.
But some friends are just like this, part of their molecular structure. They step out of the biosphere and the element of time is suddenly gone. The bell rings and they quake and split like two sides of a great divide.
These poems for NaPoWriMo were inspired by a poem I did years ago for my friend Michelle after hearing she passed away, 30 poems for inspiring women connected to me. The title now says "33 Women" because the poem to Michelle poem had already been written as well as two prologues I posted March 31.
See Donna here! http://www.marymccray.com/33-women.html#donna-nathleen-mandy