Wednesday, October 8, 2014

Pictures of You

The first poem I wrote you
was just etched in my memory
depending on the circumstance
or wherever I was, thinking of you.

It was then transcribed
on the back of a napkin
where it changed some more.

From there,
it made its way
into a notebook
and changed a little bit more.

Some time later,
I'd bang out my thoughts on a laptop
and you'd change ever so much more

In time,
I would print out your poem
and edit anew
a remembrance of love.

By the time
that you read this poem
It will have grown and changed and matured
and should be as comfortable on you
as it has been in my heart.

There might come a time
after we've grown apart
When I'll remember these lines
And adjust and adjust and adjust anew
A comma here, a stricken word there.

Framing you now unlike before
as you still live in a heart
that shares these few words
with the closest of my very dear friends.

— Mark Butkus