The School Yard at St. Thomas More

if we have not passed on 

by then, 

we will suddenly be old

on the same day, 

but in separate rooms, 

with unknown miles 

between us.

all that will happen 

in our lives 

will have transpired 

apart, except for the moment 

when our lips touched 

briefly.

the low fire of time will then 

at last lift our souls into the air

like ash on wind,

forever strangers, but with 

our hands still laced

in the remembrance 

of a schoolyard kiss 

beneath the desperate blue

of an open sky.