A Poem: Where We End Up
I dream of an outdated map
that highlights the location of a friend who lives nearby
but the friend hasn’t lived nearby in over twenty years.
The weight of this realization leads to dry tears
the kind only shed in dreams
but when I awake they’re the real deal.
And now begins another day, too early, too isolated.
They say the world is smaller than ever
but to me it is still too vast, too expansive.
I live in a place where many people have lived all their lives
and down the street are high school buddies
whom they see regularly.
Most of my high school friends don’t even live in the same time zone.
Geneva. Munich. Portland.
Might as well be Mars. Jupiter. Saturn.
We see each other once every year or two
only to return to the daily grind.
The modes of communication available to us now,
signals that traverse great distances in seconds
Or unused entirely.
A man of God recently said to me, “It is not what you have or what you do.
It’s where you end up.”
Well then, let me offer a little prayer
for the finish line.
I hope we all end up living on the same block.
There I go again. Dreaming.