Stretching Days

Sometimes I go for a walk
in the afternoons, when the rain is still
dripping from branches and letterboxes
and the clouds on the hills look empty

While I wander, I imagine
the friends I don’t know anymore
walking on parallel streets
in the same direction

Chins up,
feet light,
sure steps
unused umbrellas swinging

Maybe we’re all
looking forward, maybe they
don’t know
That I’m watching the trees
bend over the path with the weight of the water
and pocketing the leaves

If they turn the right corner
and so do I
We might spot each other

At the moment of meeting
I will stand and wait
to see if they cross the street.

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