Another November poem

A prompt from last weekend was perfect because we actually spent a lot of time renewing old friendships. And, I do mean old. We were with people I went to high school with back in the dark ages -- or as my mother used to say -- in the Year One.
In fact we're going out to dinner with two of the couples again tonight -- probably to tell more lies to one another (just kidding).

November PAD 13
For today's prompt, I want you to write a renewable poem. I suppose you could write about renewable energy or renewable books (from the library). But there are other ways to come at this, too. Vows are renewable, as are promises and oaths. In fact, if you think about it long enough, it's hard to think of things that aren't renewable. Now, get writing.

This was a weekend to renew old friendships.
We celebrated Lee’s 70th birthday,
the first one of our high school newspaper staff group
to reach that proud and
totally unbelievable age.
The Fell’s from Illinois,
the Doyle’s from Arizona,
and the rest of us,
California-based,
convened first at dinner Friday night
and yesterday at the birthday celebration.
We ate tacos, drank champagne,
and gooey birthday cake
while reminiscing about kisses
through the screen door
trips to downtown Chicago
to see burlesque
and books and screenplays never written,
except in our heads.
Though we met while working
on the high school paper
Lee was the only one
to actually make a living as a news man.
But that only came after
stints at two less than prestigious publications,
called Penthouse and Hustler,
and rides in Ken Kesey’s magic bus.
Boy, does he have tales to tell
if only he’d stop acting like an old fart
and write them down.