If I could be anywhere
I’d still be right here
Where we once stood together
Chatting,
Laughing,
Forgetting the time.
We would sit over the side
And dangle our feet
And count birds as they danced over our heads.
We never came without
Bread for the fish,
Or baloney sandwiches for us.

Everyday at noon, that strange man still comes.
The one with yellow pants
and a stringy grey mustache,
Who always muttered,
“Mighty fine day, I reckon.”
He doesn’t mutter anymore.
He just passes by and pretends not to see me.

Well,
You know where to find me,
When you finally come back home.
I’ll be here—
And then you will be too.
And then,
Maybe,
Things will be the same again.