Distance stood between us,
a ready sentinel to guard our thoughts
whose arsenal contained
a quick embrace;
a cautious thank-you
for friendship's steady hand;
and laughter's changeless face,
in print,
immortally cementing what could not come again.
Proximity observed,
proprietress dispensing sadness like
a barkeep pouring drinks.
She lingered at
the terminal,
aware that precious time
would slowly seep away
like
whiskey dripping from a cracking bottle.
Patiently she drew us
to her arms, inducing secrets from our
lips--and propelled us out
the door to stand
in line with those who
stoically awaited
morning.
