The friend I knew earlier
Was pensive but playful
Who could recommend
The best place for coffee
And make fun of my choice
When it came to coffee blend
And call me out for my wit
In a mild manner, conceding
The wit was also my weapon
And in the midst of all this
Could point out matter-of-factly
All is an appearance in awareness
Saying the pot has to “realize” it’s clay
Without which the play goes on.
Nowadays, the friend seems
A tad different, pensive still
But less playful as far as I can tell
Maybe even gossips a bit less
A lot more taciturn than earlier
I wonder what songs are playing
In the car and the drawing room
As the friend goes about living
A contented life like almost always
Asking very little of life and others.
