Today violin music
turns my thoughts
to a small violin
lovingly given

And I am surprised
at the sharp sting of tears
and the unexpected
wrenching I feel
at this memory

I held
you in such high regard
too high I guess
certainly higher
than you held me
and now I sit here
stupidly
longing to stop
the flow of tears

'There's no crying at work'�
I tell myself
while I search in vain
for the steel
I worked so hard to construct
in my heart

Steel I thought
would block
all those lovely
memories

And the pain
brings back again
that I didn't measure
up to your standard
for a friend,
though god knows
I tried

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