if i called you now
i’d ask how you are
if your hair is still blonde
i’d recall summers
in small towns with friends
walking from one point to another
does your aunt still live
in a basement apartment
with broken windows
why did you never talk
about your mom or dad
where they were or weren’t
why you were interested
in me being around
as your world shook
the friends you kept
or left behind
wherever it is you are now
are you in the big city
i know you went north
before heading south
are you in-between
situation
or soul
do you look back
as often i do
to figure out the past
have you thought about love
has it found you at last
or have you avoided it
do you still cry
when you think about
that winter night at the park
the way the air smelt of smog
the old streetlights
reflecting off the snow
the summer morning
i came to see you
but you never showed
the bookstore
where i cursed you
before giving up
i’d like to ask
if you’re happy
if you’re safe
i’d like to be
in your circle
but you’re someone i can’t reach