when your friend stumbles-first draft

when your friend stumbles

fiction
edward w pritchard

When your friend stumbles, you just keep sauntering on.
Like we sauntered when we strolled with the two prettiest girls in the county; we thought so that day- back then in our endless Summer.
Then mine threw me over- you calmly said- another would come along.
When you spotted at weight lifting you didn't raise your voice, when I choked, missing our current milestone. You just muscled up, pushing up those iron hundred pound plates as an example.
Then we both had our own wives and a half dozen babies or more between us. Didn't see each other much,- you said - it's OK- because, even if we don't pal around anymore- we still are friends.
For years as those children grew, in endless Springtime, if we saw each other at all it was about someone's problems.
And when I fell, a divorce, there you were again, we went fishing, and you said shave your beard, don't forget the mustache, maybe you won't look all that bad and it was Fall for me and it got dark early and the leaves all fell.
Then you stumbled, twice or more already, bad bad luck, and it's winter and we are in the middle of it. Saunter on old friend, don't forget to duck.
I miss you pal.
end