My Friend

My Friend

When he called and said, “This is your friend,

Jeffrey R, ” I looked through the window

at first light breaking the Andes sky,

at long shadows fleeing west.  I was one

of the flock who had not strayed, though

sometimes the darkness was deep.  This morning,

as I listen again to his voice,  “Don’t look

back,” I see through the window a glimmer

of pink beneath the overcast.  “Red sky,

take warning.”  Perhaps, but full of hope

and love to brighten another new day.

                              —Donnell Hunter

                                       16 March 2012