Who Our Friends Are

When she got very sick, my wife's old friends
Took one of two roads: some acted with grace,
And some abandoned her. They couldn't face
The difficulties which life sometimes sends
(Some say the word is "trials"). A heart mends,
But not without some staring into space,
Attempting to discover that lost place
Where goodness is what a good man defends.

We have far fewer friends now than we had,
But what we have is all the best of them,
The jewels in a princely diadem,
Friends who show up when things are looking bad.
I've let the others go. I am not sad,
But I regret some pain I could not stem.