Our friendship is seagulls, A dark, moonlit night with crisp, cool breezes, Sun shining on the bark of gnarled, old trees Tanned boys' hands And green apples and stories in a huge maple tree. Our friendship is street corners, Psychology at a basketball game, Scraps of paper with scribbled notes, Signs and wonders, And dreams told over the telephone. Our friendship is the Barnum Bridge, A treasure-box filled with valuables, Notes of a harmonica piercing the air, Pilate's Knob, The treehouse, the theater, and walking home after a dance. Our friendship is singing, Frozen fingers clutching a whiskey bottle Walking along a dusty road, bicycles, books, And a shining white dam bordering deep, clear waters. Our friendship is campfires, A man and woman dancing to sultry music, A cigarette glowing on North Slope, A slinking wolf, And Rachmaninoff's 3rd movement on a scratchy record. Our friendship is knives, And ocean waves pounding on rocky shores, Standing on a cliff, hair wet wit...