On the ankle of an old sock,
faint and red like sandstone dust,
a borrowed climbing shoe left its mark,
its memory, a reminder of that night
in December when it snowed silently,
and we stole some midnight
hours in the closed gym--
lights on, music roaring,
we scaled artificial walls and laughed
and discussed the future and his
impending departure to warmer climes--
a relocation to the western coast,
divided by scales of land and road,
desert and mountain ranges and
straight-on highways that
connect us like
pinpricks of light in a grand global constellation.
--- ---
In late December a good friend of mine moved away. Beforehand we spent some good time together--some of it climbing at The Quarry in Provo. He's an expert climber and showed me a thing or two. One night we climbed alone until 3 am, enjoying each other's company before he moved on to a different part of his life.
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3 comments:
Mattie, I love the way you describe the country separating you guys. How fun that must have been climbing together until 3 a.m. This sounds a bit nostalgic too. You must miss him. I love it! I can just see the two of you together in that closed gym. That's what poetry is to me, those word pictures that make you understand. You're awesome!
this is a wonderful post you made..
reminiscing all your happy moments with your friend is a fun way of looking back at your friendship..
btw, i really liked your blog..
Thanks for the kind words!
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