One of Those Afternoons
I could simply look at my shoe
If our conversation dulled to a bore
or if we didn’t know what to do
Though it might come back with a roar.
Marching onward down your block
costumed from head to toe,
wringing water from my socks
and wishing it would snow
both our eyes shades of oceanic
blue, staring up at the sky.
We have no need for all the panic
that shows those who have to try.
Hand in hand with a friend.
Truly together until the end.