Friends

Some are like curtains in a southern home:
        they change with every season, patterns altered by the passing of the days
Some are like walls in an old home:
        solid fixtures that never change (until a remodeling removes them entire)
Some are like revolving doors:
        they stand still as you dance in and out of their embrace time and again
Some are like stained glass windows:
        pictures painted by the light that shines through their many hued outlines
Some are like mildewed carpet:
        they are an unmovable, however unwanted fixture of your life, too costly to change
Some are like foundation walls:
        they are the firm pillars that uphold you in wind and storm and sorrow.

And every one is precious:
        they are the fixtures of these homes that give shape to our existence.