I’ve remembered you for many years.

Remembered the times spent as old friends

dreaming of when we’d get older,

braver. Brave enough to go to places we’ve never heard of before,

to meet strangers and grow sure of ourselves.


I still hear about you,

even though the years between us are more distant

than that wooden fence behind your old house.

You still tell people we’re best friends,


but how is that so? You don’t even remember

that time you made me promise never to leave,

never to go far away.

Let’s just face reality.

That old life is gone, that friendship split

apart, smashed open on the dry stones of roads

so long we can no longer see the selves that we were,

or the selves we wanted to be.


You and I are no longer friends, because

this distance we have now,

it’s longer than the miles keeping us far from home.


~Mary Sanchez, Winter 2012


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