After Thoughts
The Poetry of J. Hodges

Each day

Each day, I call a friend
just to see how they are feeling
to find out what they’ve been up to
silly, I know

mostly, unavailable
sometimes I leave a message
they often text me, they’ll say
I’ll be busy for awhile
Perhaps I’ll call you next week

they missed the moment, their moment
when I thought of them
thought of them as someone special (to me)
and as my friend

no worth in my endeavor
no worth for them

a special time (for me)
something I might have wanted to tell them
unable and, most likely, forever forgotten

too busy or uninterested to bother
never mind the extraordinary moments of pain, glory, and love
we shared before

never mind the times, the thoughts, the stories
all but forgotten
thick, now thin,
all for not, mostly forgot
but why not for me?