He's isolated, without friends,
And then I realize so am I.
Employment gives me my supply
Of socialization, but spends
It on itself; likewise upends
Plans with Hayden or with Chris. Lives
Provide obligations to tie
Each one of us to his own lens.
It may be truly as he grieves,
A shared act of creation must
Be made for his friendship to leave
The dungeon of his spirit's rust.
He needs saving from desuetude;
He works too hard to rest unviewed.
A place for my poems 