Friendship

I’m a terrible poet.  In fact, I don’t understand the intricacies of most poems.  But Dinah Maria (Mulock) Craik (1826-1887) wrote a friendship poem that I’ve almost memorized.   

I want to be this kind of friend.

Oh the comfort—

The inexpressible comfort of feeling safe with a person,

Having neither to weigh thoughts,

Nor measure words—but pouring them

All right out—just as they are—

Chaff and grain together—

Certain that a faithful hand will

Take and sift them—

Keep what is worth keeping—and with the breath of kindness

Blow the rest away.