In December br reminders of friends from past lives br dropp daily on the mat, renewing ties br that every year become more frayed, br retain still fewer strands from which br to weave our bridges, br span the miles and years, br my address book fretted with deletions. br br In December br absent friends crowd back, br on paths parallel br and diverged. br Good news passed on: careers, br retirements, births, successes. br Bad news passed over: br deaths and failures braved; a web br of recent memories br spun in Christmas letters. br Inventories of events, and more br deletions. br br Every year, more deletions... br and I fear the postman will br one day in March deliver back br a card I’ve sent this month, br maybe to an aging friend br whom I’ve not contacted br in spring or summer on the phone, br who now must be deleted, br is “not known”.