A Note To S. (A Friend)

I thought of you this afternoon,
Memories triggered by a song
That used to be your favourite
And one of several that I'm sure
I heard for the first time
In your kitchen or bedroom,
Part of the soundtrack to our
Adventures and experience,

From sleeping over with the lads
And watching films we didn't understand,
Sharing plates of sausages
In the morning before a match,
To cycling around the estates
Figuring out how to talk to girls,
Asking the DJ for goth metal
And the pop and soda local disco,

Or weekend afternoons at the
Internet café in town and
Hours wasted on teen chat-rooms,
To forums and the friends miles away
Planning parties and eventually
Travelling half-way up the country
To spend time with those strange
And beautiful people you introduced to me,

From gigs and that one festival
With cider and sour apple liqueur,
To nights we stayed up talking late
And drinking silly measures of Jager,
The hook-ups and the breaks-ups
With all the drama and secrets
Of a badly written teenage soap-opera,
Pretty characters included,

And even after you left Limerick,
Gradually returning home less and less,
You started writing and I read
And was prompted to follow suit,
The pair of us depressed in different places,
You planning to travel the world
While I just tried to traverse
The tangled paths inside my head,

Even though I only see you now
And then at scattered points
Across the busy calendar,
I still remember with a smile the fun
We've shared throughout the years,
I think of sad times not mentioned here,
I think of you, my friend, these afternoons
When listening to our old favourite tunes.


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