I must have left a bookmark
when I last read your mind.
I could follow your wicked thoughts
by the trigonometry of your grin,
viewed against an obtuse gaze.
Careless with my place-holder,
I lost my way in your ideas.

The dam of it sits somewhere
about your cheekbones.
It stops the hearth of friendship
reaching your eyes, and
if it toppled, the pent up joy
would overwhelm you.
Yet, I cannot ignore new chapters.

So, old friend, here we are again,
but for unfamiliar lines
and round-over corners.
You once scattered ions
with a vivid magnetism,
Let me take you up again;
let your return invite new aura.

I was blessed with a wonderful friend who disappeared for over a decade and then passed away in 2013, having only been back in my life for a couple of years. Like so many young men, he found his distresses too burdensome and he took his own life. This poem is one of a number about Giles that I’ve penned, and will find its way into  a full collection one day.

Lucy A Evans