She was with me then. Before.

Before the years rolled by,
Like hallowed clouds along a star spattered sky.
She was with me through the tears,
The scraped knees, and reindeer,
From teddy bears to puppy dog stares,
To reading Goodnight Moon in a comfy chair.
With afternoons sinking into sentimental suns
While the green grass grows gently overrun.

And I could see her then. Before.
With freckles like diamond speckles.
And eyes of wells from which to draw,
The simple landmarks of my simple youth. Before.
Before lofty wings of bygone years drew her to desert,
And that simple youth dissolved to dirt,
Whirling and warping, a tornado of gray, of dust.
Rusting away as all the paint starts to chip.
And all the stars lose their shine.
And the moon says goodnight.

At times she checks in
With a message or two. Sending
bubble wrapped memories and hand sewn melodies.
And though they light my spirits,
As candles do atop starless seas,
I march ever onward.
Parading along passage across the passage of time.
Every year, every mile, every step she grows farther.
I miss when she was with me then.
In truth, I miss my friend.