Two friends

   

parting, one young

one younger, and beginning a pilgrimage

in search of himself.

Come with you?

I’m not that young –

though the rest of my life

will not be what I intended,

and I’ve intended nothing.

I would not have wanted

to see you die

but would have wanted

to know you ‘til death.

You know,

men are harder to replace

than women, but women

are irreplaceable. 

Perhaps on my holiday –

only two weeks a year

to visit far-away old friends,

that are always too far.

Maybe we’ll meet again at 40.

In a bar. In Athens.

We’ll drink Ouzou

and share a Greek whore.

We’ll celebrate this moment then

pulling at our youth,

and reflect that every moment

is a poem,

that only need be written down

as a reminder.