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.
Paulelmo's Blog 
Great Post. i loved it. Can you confirm -R you reading my posts these days. I am not receiving you feedback for last one week!
Thanks for reading and commenting, Ravi. Have a rockin’ day.