two cans and one piece of string

the leaves are back. it's a sound only they can create, & a sensation in my esophagus only they can create. so thankful am i that the trees have bloomed again. if only it would become warm in this rainy state, i would too.

having a drink at a local hole named "the red flag" this evening, and i thinking back on the day/month/decade, as if there were time for all of that, about some things that were said between friends that did not (could not?) come true. not mere lip-service, rather words spoken through tears on hugged shoulders. most of them for that matter. not that long term planning and expectations of things in life is a plausible or worthwhile endeavor, still, I meant those hugs & tears.

telephones work both ways, locomotives travel in both directions, email & text are virtually free, and transitory seasons make me nostalgic. these things can be said for certain.

these hugs and tears were shared with folks i still consider my lifelong cohort, and on occasion it saddens me that i have grown to think of them nearly as seldom as they do me. as we grow older there is such an ever burgeoning in-box that i can't see over often enough to the folks i would otherwise miss. it is as if caring becomes an obligation i have placed aside for a day with deeper motivation. those days rarely come. for example, i am referencing them in seasons rather then days/weeks/or months. it's not as if the friends i am referring to have been replaced by new friends. rather, the convenience of our relationships is fleeting, and being replaced with new obligations.

and this is springtime.