Today It Wasn’t Fun

Today the things you’d done together

with your little friend so many times before

that you were sure he thought it lots of fun –

had he not always asked for more? –

you did again: but none of it was fun.

You’d thought your game was foolproof: how

your little friend would squeal and reel

when you would peel him off the ground

and toss him up way up high

and hang him there and then begin

to swing him like a pendulum that then

in shade as he eclipsed the sun resembled

some rare pendant dangling in the sky!

That was the wherefore and the why of your

togetherness. But it had weathered to a thinner,

sadder thing; you’d no idea what made it end,

nor what to bring, nor what you might pursue

or do to fling the joy up with the boy again –

the boy you had now to accept –

could he have had a reason after all? –
no longer was your little friend.

.