Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com
https://hellopoetry.com/lawrence-hall/
poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

                         Farewell to an Old Comrade

                    He yaf not of that text a pulled hen
                    That seith that hunters ben nat hooly men

                           -Chaucer, Prologue, 177-178

A man visits his pal in the hospice room
Two great old pals, best friends from boyhood
In school and in the Army together
Best men at each other’s weddings long ago

Hunting trips, laughter, campfires, and coffee
They tramped the woods and fields into old age
Until the arthritis house-bound them at last
But, peace:
A good man whispers farewell to his dying friend:

“I remember our tramps through the mists on the moors –
And can I have that fine old Purdey of yours?”