Friend Poem by Joseph S. Josephides

Friendship, the first words flow as a river
from the heart of the one to that of the other;
the friend’s shoulder is wide to relieve the pain on,
in desert a friend creates a shade for the other,
is a breath of forest, not just slow move of a leaf,
yes, it is a rare rose without treacherous thorns.

Mirror, with the one friend reflecting on the other,
as German Lang felt negro Owens as his own self
in Berlin; the one is in the place and life of the other,
on the path they meet no grass can be grown.

See Damon in prison; he took the place of Fintias.
Friendship, is a wingless Victory that stays to walk
by your side, not behind you or in front of you.

Friendship is a nice place to be born and grown,
like kids we grow up and taste crystalline water.
Lazarus, when his Friend called him back in life
asked a sculptor to carve on his grave the word:
Friend; a celestial thread that binds two souls.



© JosephJosephides