I visit an old friend
a weekend away
Old friend, 16 years
or 17
we forget
She meets me at the train.
We talk memories,
stories, careers, people
we knew once, or
thought we maybe knew
We make up for lost time.
Her little boy babbles
in the backseat
Her little boy sleeps
in the backseat
We lay in the sun,
swim in the sound
We lament not
appreciating the bodies
we had at 22
Admit we'll one day miss
the bodies we don't
appreciate now
We are so far from
El Paso
This car, this
house, this beach
We order pizza, get
drunk on wine,
eat lobster with our hands
Morning, she slices fruit
into baby pieces
We drive to a lake,
crisp air and charcoal
Paddle out on jelly legs
Kids hurl their bodies
into the shallows
Her little boy plays
in the water, plays
in the sand
We are so far from
Dayton
So far and not so
far from other
cities, other
bodies, other names,
forever names
A weekend away,
I wanted
A little boy falls and
the grownups
lurch to catch him
We all lurch to catch him
Later, out of the underground,
back
into thunderous Brooklyn
Rain pours down
Torrents
pour down
I race through ribbons,
shielding face, hair, belongings
Futile, it feels
Hands only do so much.
A dripping man
walking slow
unbothered, says Rain
is a blessing
Again, as
I cross his path:
Rain is a blessing
Earlier, we said
goodbye, hugged,
made plans
The little boy waved
He has my friend's face
My body aches
I blink away
the water
Safely home
A blessing, he said
a weekend away
Old friend, 16 years
or 17
we forget
She meets me at the train.
We talk memories,
stories, careers, people
we knew once, or
thought we maybe knew
We make up for lost time.
Her little boy babbles
in the backseat
Her little boy sleeps
in the backseat
We lay in the sun,
swim in the sound
We lament not
appreciating the bodies
we had at 22
Admit we'll one day miss
the bodies we don't
appreciate now
We are so far from
El Paso
This car, this
house, this beach
We order pizza, get
drunk on wine,
eat lobster with our hands
Morning, she slices fruit
into baby pieces
We drive to a lake,
crisp air and charcoal
Paddle out on jelly legs
Kids hurl their bodies
into the shallows
Her little boy plays
in the water, plays
in the sand
We are so far from
Dayton
So far and not so
far from other
cities, other
bodies, other names,
forever names
A weekend away,
I wanted
A little boy falls and
the grownups
lurch to catch him
We all lurch to catch him
Later, out of the underground,
back
into thunderous Brooklyn
Rain pours down
Torrents
pour down
I race through ribbons,
shielding face, hair, belongings
Futile, it feels
Hands only do so much.
A dripping man
walking slow
unbothered, says Rain
is a blessing
Again, as
I cross his path:
Rain is a blessing
Earlier, we said
goodbye, hugged,
made plans
The little boy waved
He has my friend's face
My body aches
I blink away
the water
Safely home
A blessing, he said
