“High as Brown Bread”–a poem

I wrote this for a dead friend. He and I didn’t know each other when we were younger, so I made up a history. This is one of the very few poems I’ve written with a fictitious element. Literally, there have been about three. The fiction is just for framing the very real feelings of missing a man who died too young.

I’ll be back later with your Tuesday review, friends. First, however, I have to get into this project and see what that’s all about. I appreciate any warm thoughts and prayers you may have.


“High as Brown Bread”


A good friend sunlit

A good feeling within

A strong sail that rises

from the bow to the blue

A celebration of when

we were young and strong

with only the ocean underneath

and unseen land ahead.

Man, but we knew everything

we needed to know.

Young, dumb, and full of…

ideas, stoned to the bejeezus,

high as brown bread

like James Taylor said.

We knew it all.

How could this not be our world?


A good day, abandon

A good slow walk through

a clay earth canyon

A canteen as dry as

a BBC comedy

and the rational expectation that

you’d live long enough

that I wouldn’t have to

speak to you in verse.


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