the move

you have a friend
who moves often.
he calls and says
i need your help.
through the years
he has gone from
downtown, to across
the river, to the burbs
and back. it's always
a break up, or a new
job, or money issues
that makes him
put everything into
a truck and go.
you can't count
the times you've
carried his boxes
of albums, the big
chair with the hole,
his rack of ties,
and bags of shoes.
there are less friends
now to join in,
they have disappeared
into the years,
grown scarce since
the first truck
was loaded, but
not you.