When was the hour
the garden gained power
to teach life’s lesson of love
that one could recover its loss?
1993 was the year.
Each moment held dear.
The Waterford Tower
ended homelessness
when friendship shared
a dwelling of peace and safety
after illness took my career.
Who knew the fraud of success is real
where friendships are concerned?
Positional power has no hold
on false friendships born daily anew.
Personal power takes energy to maintain,
more than CFIDS allowed.
The oldest friends remained.
Love untarnished, contained
year after year through our play.
Like perennial flowers they sustained me.
Their roots planted wide, firm and deep.
Annuals come and go with the sun.
Flashier and more colorful, perhaps;
but unable to fulfill winter’s need
to dig down deep beneath winter’s chill
until sunny days of Spring restore
all that one once hoped for.
Old friends flower in my garden.
Old friends remain on cold days of change.
Old friends stay the course until the end.
1993 was only the beginning
of planting my feet in old soil,
among old friends.
annarino writes 