I've Looked at Clouds From Both Sides Now

The sun bade a warm farewell this evening, but not without a showy slash of molten bronze across the cerulean sky.
Today I spoke with a friend I've had from birth...we shared playpens, diapers and various rattles, gew-gaws and toys. Throughout primary school, we were forced to wear matching skirt (me) and shirt (him) for the May Day dances. Our mothers were best friends, great seamstresses and confidants. During high school we practiced dancing to Dick Clark's American Bandstand until we had every dance nailed and showed off at the Demolay Dances. We dated in college, but that fizzled because it was like dating your brother. We knew too much about each other. We wrote across the passing years...birthdays, Christmases. Now we call and e-mail...rarely talking about the past; only today and plans for our tomorrows, but that shared lifetime is always there. He built grand edifices...baseball and football stadiums...stadii, office buildings, halls of academia while I flung my art across the air in TV and some movies and now in molten bronze that matches that fired skyscape. But every time I first hear his voice or read a greeting....I remember two little kids, a tow-headed boy and a dark-hared girl, catching frogs in the Missouri River and weaving hopes and dreams of this very day.