Seasons of Love

When we were self-aware
kids of fourteen, I viewed him
already as my very own.
Immediately on first introduction
I recognized him as the boy
who appeared in my dreams.
Much later, telling him that
he scoffed. His reaction on
meeting me was more prosaic,
perhaps more gender-driven
the appeal of a pretty girl to
a young boy. In the sixty-four
years that have since passed
that mutual reliance on our
childhood bond has been
understandably a primary
motivation for lifelong 
devotion smothered in love.