Old comrades, soul mates,
\nbarely discerned shadows,
\nfifty years in the coming, reunion,
\nthe great tributaries converging
\nfor a few hours.
\nWe will try to see each other
\nin strange faces.
\nWomen with supple forms
\noverturned like carts,
\nmen, virile and running,
\nholding onto arms,
\nas if to escort and being escorted.<\/p>\n
Myself, unable to bear the news
\nof old conquests.
\nLife released from glasses, stories, laughter,
\nenough people for a small party,
\na few tables.
\nForgive me if I don\u2019t remember names,
\nthe calls were few,
\nthe notes fill a box,
\nwe flew away like a flock of birds
\nto strange, bewildering countries.<\/p>\n
Always, here and there,
\nwhen I saw a boat,
\nviewed a war,
\nlost myself on a walk,
\nyou came back like flashes of light,
\nand I vowed to write, call,
\nvisit a few old precincts where you gathered,
\nbut never did.
\nYou remained for the fiftieth,
\na closet full of mementos
\nand missed words.
\nOh, let\u2019s drink comrades,
\ncompare our stories,
\nand ignore the emptiness in the room,
\nthe absence of lost friends.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Old comrades, soul mates, barely discerned shadows, fifty years in the coming, reunion, the great tributaries converging for a few hours. We will try to…<\/p>\n