We Celebrated Didn't We?

by Michele T. Fry © 1993

We celebrated, didn't we
in every kind of way?
In every place we found ourselves
we made a lovely day.

Strolling through the fairgrounds
or dressing for a ball;
dealing with the children's projects;
shopping at the mall.

Through countless hours spent in building,
or chores, or on the phone,
we laughed and gasped and struggled on --
and cried, but not alone.

Regardless how things knotted up,
how high or low we hovered.
We always seemed to bounce along
on laughs. We had each other.

It seemed so natural a thing
to acquiesce to you.
And always to my great delight
you melted for to me, too.

I didn't realize, back then
that what we had was rare.
I took too much for granted then,
supposing ours more normal fare.

Thus it wasn't hard to split
for pastures neater mown.
But grass, so bitter to my taste,
prefers me now to live alone.

Yet I admit my heart leaps up
whenever my phone rings.
Perhaps there'll be some happy new
connectedness with things.

So, why am I amazed that after
all these years, you call,
and within minutes, nay in seconds,
we're laughing our fool heads off!

And all the pain we ever knew
and all we caused each other
was lifted from our shoulders then.
We tickle one another!

I asked you if you had this strange
effect on everybody. Your strange reply:
'No way. Just you.
No one else finds me funny'.

The miracle of friendship's ours.
Let's celebrate anew.
And never let it go again
for I have surely missed you.