Cancer took my best friend last October. It's odd, but I call her things that I would never have said if she were alive... these childish names. Perhaps I'm protecting her, in my heart. Maybe I'm protecting myself.

I'm sure she finds it amusing.

Childish Names

Abigail Lundberg, 4/05

Forgive me, my dear,
when I call you My Child-
and don't think it queer,
nor get yourself riled;

I know we're too close
for phrases so callow-
for grade-school proses,
so stilted and shallow;

But I've lost your face,
your eyes,and your hands-
and all of my grace
was used up in the end;

And now all that's left
is a box of clichés-
I'm verbosely bereft.
Words no longer convey.

So
When I say Dear Girl:

You are yet a teen,
fresh in my mind's eye-
You'll still be sixteen
when my hair has turned white.