written for my best friend
he was looking for a water bottle
maybe we are returning to the ways of ourselves. last week we saw a young boy in delhi on the floor of a restaurant looking for something and he was sticky in the way that young boys are. he was looking for a water bottle to go into his backpack
then we walk around tossing our appetites back and forth between us
he's wiggling his hips
we run into the little boy again; this time he's on a skateboard trying to do one of those tricks. he's wiggling his hips now to be more aerodynamic
we fill ourselves with trinkets and knick knacks and window shop until late into the night.
he's playing with his friends
his backpack is flying in the air and his friends are laughing with him while he zooms past us on the skateboard. he's playing with his friends and he probably has school tomorrow and his mother will call his name soon signalling the end of playtime
we reminisce and i wish i knew you when we were young and growing up
I think this a sweet poem written for your best friend. I often think about what it would have been like if I had known the people who mean a lot to me now when we were children. Also, if we had ever run into each other but would never know because it was a chance, unmemorable encounter.
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