SMOKING STIRS
She was the first of our circle to face a terminal
prognosis.
At least, those of us still corresponding.
Across these miles, across these years.
Among the others: Vietnam? AIDS? Gunshots
outside the convenience store?
Wasn’t even a smoker. Though he is.
* * *
End-of-the-month U-Haul vans
flock to our complex, the highways too.
American society, nothing stays put long.
Moving, uprooting, lost in vague desire.
* * *
Did Paula and Steve stick it out?
Three decades now, and they never
invited me to the wedding
though I introduced them.