My Best Companions

The orbits of my best companions bend
With touches of their ladies' gravity,
Whether fair weather or obscurity,
I'll not be guaranteed to see a friend
And won't suppose those throes would slow, suspend,
Or otherwise distend to visit me,
And traveling my own trajectory,
There's nothing curious about these trends.
Of course, there must exist a nucleus,
Or, caught in some incontinental drift,
Still swelling, an intolerable rift
Would soon extend into a loneliness.
This anchor pulls upon me less and less:
My circle has experienced a shift.

Topic: Circle of Friends
Date: August 20