Ariel Losing His Tooth

Ariel Losing His Tooth

My friend aches
in his twelfth year,
lower left fang
hanging loose,

but he rises, on unsteady legs, head
tilted as if to question, Do I know you?
each time I check on him, which might be every hour,
God knows.

I know he’s fading–
each time we touch, a little less
camaraderie, a little more apprehension,
as though.                                                    As though
we both accept.