We are becoming one
in some strange way.
Fifty years since our graduation.
How fair we were,
not yet twenty!
Bursting like children
from a door.
Now wreckage,
gray hair,
fat tummies.
Lines traveling across
the decades of our faces.
The coups,
the glory,
children,
celebrations,
the faraway countries we explored.
And we come back like birds,
butterflies,
ancestral elephants,
with long memories,
broken hearts.
Medals,
helping each other,
trying to see into closets,
soul mates across a table,
the gentling of war.
Stories and words,
touching each other’s hands,
looking past our destinies.
Life overtook us.
Where did we put
our poems and crayons?
Would it not be a wonder
for a moment,
to be young again,
and see our pretty faces,
hope shining in our eyes,
and be a reunion
of angels ascending,
the world ours
for the taking?