through misty nights and starless skies,
those years by the kitchen sink,
or pancaked mornings, burning bright,
sit we would, over a drink,
over childhood days and childless hearts,
upon tears over us or prettier things,
caught your gaze, once or twice
when Mary chased me over to a scary brink
of what, now, I fail to recall
as I fail to recall many links
remember, when once, on a green afternoon
you lulled in sleep over chicken wings,
and now I lie among roses ******,
for Johns, Coopers and other things
and now we can be forever friends,
and forever lean by kitchen sinks.