Williams Park

Thoughts on how friendships change with the passing seasons and years.

I.
I remember that summer as
both cold and hot we
waded through the ashes of
my mother dying strapped our
tears to leafy branches watched them
float down with the current defined
by movies watched from the bed
of a truck your head on mine we swam
as far away as Hope stuck together
like five petals on a summer rose

II.
that fall was colder than a winter
breeze my hair was ice I slept
alone inside a nest of blankets while
you kept indifferent coats to let the rain
drip off drip down we never made
it to the park again we never even
saw each others’ faces in
anything more than books dried
pear slices a scarf knit from
a pattern that existed only in
souls crushed with a falling stone

III.
I returned to you and though you
felt the winter cold we
still reunited as friends the new year
blessed the park with invisibility
snow blankets an open expanse
on which our footprints were destined
to stay imprinted for a little while

IV.
spring came late as did the times
we spent together still seeking
new trails this time splashing
in knee-deep water letting the
flowers do the talking for
once after dinner together and
the silence of a car ride we always
said goodnight without words though
my mind made it sound romantic
like buds opening on the
same branch close enough to touch
but too far to intertwine

V.
this second summer will be all
the more uncertain because
two of us are leaving this time we’ll
pack our bags with invisible tears
in our eyes real smiles plastered
onto hesitant faces we don’t quite
know where we stand if it’s college
for a year or two years if the distance
will disappear or if we as blossoms
will bloom to different seasons if we
will fall from our shared branch
or grow closer if we

will ever walk these perfect paths
again you and me a breath of
space the summer sun imploring us to
Take a Deep Breath perhaps Grab Her
Hand He’s Never Been Kissed before
we dive in

M.
May 7/17

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