Reunions

Lunch in the Vineyard

Reunions

You and I, loosely hinged friends.
You rang. In town. We met for a meal
at the intersection where rain soaks
the pavement and forks off.

You ate minced beef, raw to ruby red
with green capers rolling on the plate.
You stabbed at the raw egg mounted
on top, a bulging eye staring at you,

and it bled itself dry across the plate.

Everything about that day was raw.
The conversation, difficult, tough.
We chewed on sinewy words, and
sputtered on thoughts.

And then my heart torqued a bit.
I realised that we had nothing left
to say. Our former-days friendship
had left the table. You sipped wine.

I sucked on ice cubes that tortured
my nerves and dissolved to water.


Image from WikiArt. Lunch in Vineyard, by Ivan Generalic, Date: 1971. Fair Usage. ©Misky 2022 Shared with #amwriting on Twitter

Lunch in the Vineyard

12 responses to “Reunions”

  1. Sounds painful in all senses. 😔

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    1. Five years is a long time, and certainly a lot has happened during those years. Both of us are different people now. We grow, and sometimes we grow apart.

      Liked by 1 person

  2. This is really sad, Misky. Death of a friendship, however casual, is difficult.

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    1. It leaves you feeling slightly empty, as if grief might be an appropriate reaction.

      Liked by 1 person

      1. Yes, that’s accurate.

        Liked by 1 person

  3. So very good. Time doesn’t play fair.

    Boy, am I ever glad not to have gotten that art as a prompt. “What’s wrong with this picture?”

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    1. Like that afternoon, everything is uncomfortably out of proportion. I swear, I have more fun searching for images than writing.

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  4. Longest meal ever. Well done, M.

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    1. Thank you, Ron.

      Like

  5. It’s strange how we grow apart as time goes by. Not very nice at all.

    Liked by 1 person

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