The one in a ponytail, the other in a loosened tie; friends;

A mythic weathery day: rain from the west, and from the east, fog.

Friends: clothes and hair: present details; the breakfast they had together,

Past details: paper napkins, everything bagels;

The fact that from now on they’ll have every meal apart: tiny furniture detail.

Over are each of the years when one would say, “I can stay a long time

    today!”

And the other would say, “Great!”;

Gone are any of the moments when one of them could have said,

“I’d rather live with you. Why can’t things be arranged around that?”

They are poets, and they will never see each other again.

Two poets, and they know they will never see each other again.

Both poets, and what they can think of to say is, “Okay,” and “All right.”