#11 Someday

There will come a day
When the books and clothes are tucked away,
The boxes sealed, the shutters drawn,
My small apartment
Emptied of song

When you come to help, you’ll say:
‘Doesn’t this room look big!
Without your life inside,
Without your socks and printer and iced tea, inside!
Without the fridge’s hum.’
Our voices will bounce around in echo
Pounding like a tuneless drum—

Whispering: “Thank you for your courage,
Safe travels back to where you are from.”

We knew this was a passing thing
(That’s what happens when you are nomadic)
We also knew that wouldn’t make
‘The End’ seem any less tragic

Come, friends, and sit with me
Wherever we first met:
Class,
Café,
On the stairs,
Or on that rocky bench,
Then tilt your face toward the sun,
Let its heat cradle your head.

Years from now you’ll be reminded of these:
Cypress trees, Mediterranean breeze,
And I’ll think of you—you’ll think of me

I can chart our growth just like a map,
Look!
There we were young and here we are old;
There we were nervous, here we are bold;
Here, we spoke in riddles, in themes,
like love, distance, and fear
In personal musings, in philosophy,
Voices growing louder, more clear

Shoulders were offered, dinners were held,
To help us all get through,
We realized even the bravest souls
Were lost and wanting, too.

I’ll see you all again, someday
Once the wind has blown us
Every which way,

I’ll see you again someday.

MC

Published by

thingsconsidered

I believe that: (1) language is the most powerful tool we have (2) that bravery is the most admirable quality in a person and (3) that the best is yet to come.

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