We were not kids together,

but we are now, sitting

for hours making sailboats

out of "The Daily News", while

we wait for lunch .

.

The windows- large cataracts

that dim the dawns and dusks

and the couch with its pink roses

floating on a black sea, sits mute,

and lonely during the dinner hour.

.

The two of us share old keepsakes-

souvenirs of lands we visited long ago-

me and a Venetian gondoleer,

smelling of the canals, and you, shoes

full of sand in front of the pyramids,

both with toothy grins toasting life.

.

My friend, perhaps tomorrow,

we can fish," play kick the can",

let me beat you at checkers,

or sit down by the elms,

and wait for our diplomas.

.

01/25/2006

Posted on 01/25/2006
Copyright © 2025 Jane E Pearce