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Rated: E · Poetry · Friendship · #1251652
A poem about a friend, written for a prompt about familiar strangers
Gerald

Down the tree-lined street
lived our friend
Gerald.
My little daughter
pig tails and missing teeth
held his hand.
How our friendship started
I don’t remember now.
Thursday nights
we’d spin the 45s
country-western music
his choice
on my old turntable.
Dark hair, brown eyes,
aging
his face creased with a smile
as he came upon us on the walk.
He lived in the group home.

After we moved away
Gerald and I wrote.
Dear Shannon,
How are you today
I sure miss you so much
I am working real hard
Hope I can see you soon
Will you write when you can
I will close for now
wrote by Gerald

He wanted independence
He got a little apartment
and someone helped him
with the bills, the shopping
We all deserve that
to live with dignity
to have friends
and listen to
country western music
on Thursday nights.
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