you were then, the age i am now–
i think about this in the dark and
scoop your image from my memory–
your young children will be grown,
your hair, fully silver–
of course when i meet you in my dream later that night,
we are as we were–
and i am desired once again
afternoon winter skies
atlas jars
small aquamarine on a silver chain
a plastic bottlecap in the woods
and the memory of your tender blue eyes
she was different then,
and he was different when
they were friends
the years roll on,
one in front of the other,
and i wonder
if you still smoke those short cigarettes
and close your eyes gently with the first hit of dark spanish tobacco,
if you paint at an open sea-facing window,
if you drink your coffee sweet and midnight black,
if you ever,
do you ever,
let yourself remember…
what if we looked at one another with peace
and with friendship
and with gratitude
and with empathy
and with kindness
what would the world look like then?
with them,
i remember who i am
underrated: naps with friends
