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Things You Keep From A Sensitive Friend
by Ken HarnischRambling roses
Left the highway
At the inn up on Route 49
I watched them park their car and
Admired the way
They tugged at carry-ons
And wouldn’t let the bellmen
Help them into the lobby.
One looked like yours
I wasn’t going to say it
Knowing how you get
When you hear she is near
And I’m pretty tired of keeping you
Away from sharp objects and taverns
When you learn the news.
There wasn’t another man
At least none I could see
I know they wore green gowns
To the reception, and
The one that looked like yours
Danced with the man in
The powder blue tuxedo
He danced too quickly
To be her father
And the groom was much enamored
Of his bride, so it wasn’t him
But knowing how she likes speeches
And the men who make them
I wondered after a bit
If Powder Blue
Wasn’t the best man
I know, I know
You’re the best man she knows
A fact you will mumble to me
After your seventh beer
While the salt from your eyes
Is dripping into mine.
That’s why I hate telling you
When I see her
If it was her I saw, I mean
07/31/2009 Author's Note: from a sketch for a short, short story I decided looked better here..
Posted on 07/31/2009
Copyright © 2025 Ken Harnisch
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Kris Mara on 07/31/09 at 09:13 PM sometimes they work themselves into poems regardless of our intent, huh? It's an engaging story either way, I found myself drawn to the humanity in it -- the gut wrenching feeling it gives a person (because it hurts us when our friends hurt)...and, as always, I love your style, the words you chose to piece together -- so fresh, yet you make them sound like they were that way all along. I hope I'm making sense here... |
| Posted by Alison McKenzie on 08/01/09 at 05:16 AM Yes, this did seem to make its own shape as the words came tumbling along, in a most interesting fashion. |
| Posted by Allison Smith on 08/02/09 at 08:27 AM A great story, after rereading it several times I've been left pondering. There are so many possibilities with this work, and I can bend it to suit my own story. Good job. I love it. |
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