My best friend of forty-five years died not too long ago
and like the fool I used to be I reacted with machismo.
I was building a home on a mesa of wild rabbits and sage,
thinking about my pal I was depressed, angry, in a rage.
...
Read full text
You sound like a likeable crusty old varmint! Keep writing!
Eugene, I was pretty crusty when I wrote this poem, but like most of us, have mellowed.