Past Friendships Poem by James McLain

And comes one day,
the white swan is lost among the many.
That so many can be crowded around the lake.
And that occasionally that one is loved,
not being loved it happens, and there is love.

And one day is lost among the many,
that itself can be less seen or crowded.
The fountain jets up in the park.

Leaves show their sharp edges.
Green upon the grass.
That and we would like to speak to occasionally of her.
Do you think, would she like to speak?

Then it crossed over and into the opportunity.
Your dream turns up suddenly
and disappears just as suddenly.