This is how I met a dear friend: I was 18, standing on a ladder, painting a huge mural for the Wilton Youth Project. Louise came in the door with my friend Peter. I could tell he'd been drinking, and it was snowing out, so I offered to drive them home. I drove Louise home first, then Peter. I liked her right away. We were in love for a while and after that I never really recovered. I spent years putting my heart back together. But we were always friends, forever.
She's gone now, way too young, much too soon. We were well met, star-crossed. Her hair looked like copper wire. Her laughter spun like ice in a glass.
1 comment:
Thank you for sharing your memories of Louise. I would like to have known
her, sounds like she was a firecracker. I was thinking the other day about your special friendship with Louise and I was going to ask you about her poetry. What a strange coincidence that you wrote about her
today.
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