By Catherine Madden

Friendship is a hay in a needle-stack
I have to try to find it
Walking in, barefoot
The needles scrape against my feet
Scrapes turn into cuts, cuts turn to serious wounds
And scars
But it’s all worth it
When you find that hay
The hay I searched for
Is finally mine, all mine!
The hay I cried for
The hay I bled for
The hay I went through all of that pain for
Is in my hand
And then
The wind comes
And blows the hay
Back into the needle-stack


  1. Wow, this is a powerful poem. I suspect you have given a voice to many people who feel the same way. Great job Catherine!