The fog rolled in like a delicate lace curtain, leaving illusions of children playing on a sandy beach and ocean waves.

Let your soul and spirit fly into the mystic.

Nothing was as I’d planned, but still…

The restaurant was busy. An hour wait…and yet this allowed time for us to stroll past historic cottages and contemplate life back when a whole summer could be filled with sunshine and sandy beach days.

No tables inside. Seated, instead, outside in the chilly air… and yet, from here, we could hear each other and also clearly hear the sound of the ocean waves and tell stories about our pasts. Stories that made us laugh, causing us to question if the tales were actually true. Yes, in fact, she had lived in Alaska and learned to surf while going to grad school in San Diego and went to high school close to our vacation home in New Port Beach. Yes, I did live on a street called Hooker Avenue, and yes, it does run into Pleasure Drive. Yes, I did squeeze pickles for a job, and yes, he earned money being a wiener checker. And because we were outside, away from others, we lingered longer and laughed harder.

Unlikely friendship. We’d come together because of 1) one common friend, 2) a sick friend, and 3) a love of writing poetry. Otherwise, it’s likely our paths would have never crossed. Now, meeting face-to-face for the first time after sharing Zoom calls for over a year. On this day, we sat in the fog, cherished our encounter, shared love for our now-departed friend, and gazed out into the mystic. Finding the gift in it all.

Bonded Together

What causes friendship
to last forever?
What are the things
that keep people together?

No one would ever say
the answer is POETRY
or writing every week.
Ridiculous, we’d all agree.

But the truth is in the words.
The energetic sharing of crazy.
The creative, inquisitive,
open-minded days we spent

Bonded together
in an incredibly supportive endeavor.
100 weeks of poetry group means
now we’ll be friends forever.