Day After Thanksgiving

Day after Thanksgiving,
Can’t keep her off my mind.
I hear the same melodic tune,
Mr. Fred Jones distracts me.

Cursive script; mine is changing-
Typing thoughts-
Doesn’t always do the trick.

Click. Click.
The girl on the notecard-
Teaches the keys to another.
My stuffed bunny stares-
What to write?

The night we split the
Chenin Blanc—
Talked like old times;
Its 4am!

Conversations-
Magnets grasp
us
to our chairs.

Sort of like this other time and place
With passed notes and uniforms-
Constant chatter.

But what about last year?
Later tears and insomnia,
First glares over hot garlic bread and pizza.
Ice.

The phone call I overheard,
The hatred I eavesdropped
Friend-
Fair-weathered?

Forecast undetermined,
Nor’easter?
Just an overcast weekend.

And here we are again;
Glued together like a
The puzzle completed but
Missing a few pieces—

41 ways we wouldn’t work—
Beating the odds with
The bottle’s blessing?
Barnaby’s.
Brownies,
Beringer.
Friends—best?