Micky and me

Time was when we stretched the boundaries,
ran free, Micky and me;
darting in and out of consequence
as all kids do.

Years melted and I didn't see him again
until that night in the Red House pub;  
1998 from memory; although memories,
like boundaries, shrink with time.

He smiled, went through the motions,
then introduced me to Carol, his fiancee;
and I remember how, when he went
to the bar, she and I shared a look that said,
you knew him first, but I know him now.

Came closing time and we kissed; it was no
more than a peck on the cheek, though the
moment seemed to stretch to infinity and back;
then he was gone, taking with him
the promise of ten thousand tomorrows.

For some reason I read the obits today,
(an admittedly peculiar, but occasional
habit of mine), and Mickey's name, once
so joyously familiar, caught my eye.

It was just a few lines, about a life well led
but taken far too early; And with each word
I tasted the bittersweet ghost of regret
for all the years never met.

Carefully then, I set the paper aside,
wandered listless into the kitchen.
Made tea, cried a little; wondering
how long it might be before Micky and me
were stretching those boundaries again.

Reviews

[barleygirl]

This poem knocks my toenails off. I used to have a married best friend named Mick & we stretched the boundaries, but since ours was a cross-country (penpal) friendship, we couldn't do anything "over the line". I love V3, so subtle, so true. Describes how I could tell, just from subtle cues his wife sent over social media, getting all her friends to hate on me, so I quit my friendship with Mick. He died a few months later. Still kicking myself for missing those last few precious months becuz I got bullied into backing off. Your story-in-a-poem gives me a ton of ideas about how to tell such intricate stories in verse (((HUGS))) Fondly, Margie

[Beccy]

Thank you for understanding so completely Margie; my great regret is that I foolishly missed years rather than months. We were sort of childhood sweethearts and he meant a lot to me. But we somehow drifted apart, me to Uni, then on to a life in the city, whilst Mickey stayed in the village where he always said he was happiest.

And now, her I am, back where I came from. Same village and hardly round the corner from where I grew up. Funny old world isn't it.

My poem 'Being Ten,' is the sister poem to this. Wonderful memories I shall always cherish.

Beccy. X

[Dara]

"I tasted the bittersweet ghost of regret". This phrase in particular is so very poignant and sums it all up beautifully. A very loving tribute to someone who you must have made a huge impression on you. Simply awesome.

[Tina Louise UK]

oh this gave me chills, I can relate, beautifully yet sad read :) x

[Beccy]

Experience shapes us, memory defines; without either, it we would be no more than hollow shells drifting through three score year and ten. Thank you all for your kind comments.

Beccy

[Neville]

Beccy my friend.. I just want you to know that you are entirely responsible for not only the tear in my eye and the lump in my throat, but also the shiver down my spine.... I appreciate the motivation behind these very special words of yours dates back a considerable number of years but hope it is not too late for my condolences........Here's wishing you All Good Things, Neville

[Gee]

If I were to tell you how wonderfully you write,
it would be like a Sunday footballer telling Messi how good he is at footie, so I won’t and you do.
Hope you and your son are well and enjoying summers second attempt at starting.!

[emmajoy]

My dear, dear you... what to say,, this isnt make-believe and it beautifully, sadly true as true and wonderfully written with heart ink and more. No more words to say, but.. is not only wonderfully written but.. touches me more than can say. Hugs.

'.. she and I shared a look that said, .. you knew him first, but I know him now. ' happens.

[Jimmy Yetts]

Utterly lovely and absolutely compelling.
As far as I'm concerned, the love story of the year!
Work to be admired, Beccy.

[Samuel Dickens]

This is powerful, ringing of sad truth. I easily relate to the way you feel about it all. That small spark we once experienced with a person does not fade, it seems.

[Marvin Thomas Cox-Flynn..]

There comes a time in our lives when we spend much more time looking back than looking forward ... So many people we knew and loved have moved on with their lives, to leave us behind with ours ... And then, there are those times, as you so powerfully share above, when we come to realize that all those we knew are dropping like flies in the sea of world around us, and we know it will not be long until death comes to take a swat at us too ... At 61 it is happening more frequently each day, as friend after friend goes away ... Your poetry is wonderful to read ... I dabble in poetry, simply because a writer has to write or cease being a writer, but I have never considered myself a poet ... You, dear lady, are indeed a poetess ... Thank you for sharing this piece ...