i hate goodbyes, i moan
well, you can't lock yourself in a room in the basement, dan says
we laugh at that, images of sitting in a room to avoid the inevitable separation,
food pushed through a small flap in the door
on this ancient, medieval wall (we climbed up it in the jasmine air)
where we can see more stars than i have seen since i left santa barbara
(but not as many as in my washington's sky)
with five new friends, thinking and whispering together
i can't help but feel my life is lived in airports
in those timeless in-between times
in greeting and in parting, in transition
and sojourning sure brings a lot of goodbyes.
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