Lost Friends
Friends end, and in your arms and hands,
you feel like you are pulling in a line,
no longer attached to anything.
Their names come up in conversation,
or appear suddenly at the bottom of a drawer,
leaving you to examine their lives in a tear.
Magnified, like a drop of pond water,
as it rolls across the envelope in your hand
The ink flowing again after the years,
frozen in a name,
thawed by the nostalgia of a postmark,
the sun of that place is now,
just another star in an unfinished constellation.