“I will see you tomorrow”
was our parting promise
every day at the crossing;
you went one way and I went the other
but I watched as your hair
bobbed along and disappeared with you
up the hill and round the corner.
At twelve years old I believed in this moment
like buried treasure, X marks the spot
for a friend who would be here forever.
But I forgot our promise was a goodbye
and always would be a goodbye
even if we said it every day for the rest of our lives.
You were never mine, nor was I yours.
We were passing ships in a day
turned to night and our parting promise
lost its “tomorrow” and became an “again.”
Poem: © Kristiana Reed 2020