A Poem For Momentary Friends
Sometimes we need a new friend, someone who doesn’t know who we used to be
I’ve been waiting for the sun to go behind a cloud.
I can’t stand it looking at me in this state.
Sometimes there’s pain in places we can’t see.
If I keep writing poetry, will I eventually find it, release it?
I’d just like a friend right now —
someone to sit on this bench with,
to look at the river with,
to hide behind trees with,
when the sun won’t leave.
I’ve found some peace, shaded by leaves,
but isn’t there someone to join me?
My phone dings — there are friends on the other end.
But I crave that certain kind, someone new,
who sees me for who I am, who I might or could be,
not for who I was even yesterday.
People walk by my bench.
Some make eye contact, and for a moment,
they’re that friend. The ones who don’t,
they’re my clouds, my trees,
covering the intrusive sun for me.
