Men do not speak of what it means
To be a friend.
It is something that we know
During shared experience,
When we are warriors,
Standing together against enemies,
Seen and unseen,
Or in those moments
When we test ourselves
Against elements,
And mountains,
And sea and sky,
Surviving in the wilderness,
Using only natural savvy
And skill.
We are friends
When our women leave us,
And when our teams win or lose,
We are friends when our children
Are taken by vengeful ex-wives,
And we are left to mourn
Alone, if not for our friend.
My friend is the only one
Who sees me cry,
Or sees me jubilant over the simplest
Of things,
My friend knows me to be
The gentle giant,
Except when challenged,
And I am ready to fight to the death.
My friends are treasured
Throughout life,
Sometimes gently,
Sometimes with the raw emotion
That fires our gender,
And when it comes to friendship,
This is all that I have to say.