Driving an Old Friend

Out to a campus, many-storied buildings, sculptured

glass and steel shine, courts of grass and eager learning

and autos wait in the sun, basking and baking, and into

the city center, and a hall, a place to perform, a site for

 

Playing music, and speaking loudly words and drama,

mauve and grey, vastly spacing into heights, and

a gallery tucks away, and here’s a painting of my dog,

and the beaten blackened gates bar the way, no art

 

Today, and here is a school, grown beyond its lineage,

fresh girls reaching for volleyballs, hints of our shared

educating, new rooms, alumni named, and we roam the

New, and feel the old ways,  funny old thinkings,

 

old Neighborhoods, home to home, oh that’s where

she lived, oh lets go another block, that’s where

the friend lived, and sitting and biting off chunks

of the sweet cold buttered pecan, every building

 

Has a story, our doctor practiced there, and then the

Wetlands

All of the sudden, lying in the sun,  behind the building materials,

behind the dinosaur front-end loaders, behind the

three-story red-brick construction company behemoth looming,

at the end of a dusty gravel drive sided with trucks and

 

Wire and rebar, grass, a lake, frog-sound puzzling us,

what is this, reeds reaching, cat-tail bulbs swaying,

red wing black bird low over her face speeding, thick

algae carpet sinuous and draping, beigy green,

 

Soft and lucent pearl resting, condo, school, and business

shielding, at the end of the road occurring, carefully,

carelessly hiding, only there for your gazing, whispering,

farther going, into the shell and the beckoning deep.