Saturday, May 21, 2016

Collingswood

I have not forgotten how the light painted lilacs on the water where we stood,
Watching them row their little boats.
We talked of the tension and release in each pair of slick shoulders that slid by us on their way-
We wondered about the crowded restaurant we came from,
And the unusual cold of the summer day.

Now I find myself
Collecting fingerprints against the back of my hand-
These friends we had together, stamping me into a club of one.
You sink further in my memory,
Until you are waving at me from behind the river reeds
And city light obscures the stars that used to fall between the trees.