Would I join my (very) high Anglican friend at a local Christians Together meeting at the local URC Chapel? I said that I wouldn't: I don't like lowest common denominator religion, and the agenda was about supporting Oxfam and Cafod, and I don't support them.
After a while, he asked if I'd come to Benediction at his church. I said that I wouldn't.
"Is that because the Roman Mission in England believes that we are worshipping a piece of bread?"
"I wouldn't have put it that way ..." I started, and waffled, and gradually felt the threads of friendship beginning to untangle. "Don't let's fall out."
"We already have."
I'm of an age where new friendships are rare, and can't easily replace old ones; and old friendships become more valuable just because of their endurance and durability: old is good, a lot of the time, just because it's old.
But not all the time.
Oh well. Back to the poems.