those JNU rocks

Three classmates walked through
entered unknown terrain
from the highest point
and emerged far away, as friends
the friendships gave way
the exhilaration of that walk holds

And there were kisses
In the still air of summer
and in winter, with the cold seeping through the shawl
and once, as we soaked in the rain holding each other
We meandered through those years,
looking for shorcuts, hoping it would take longer
to hit the regular road
We fought, made up and broke up

The first long conversation
with a parallel one in the head,
Is this attraction, or it is the starry night
Also, the last conversation
The stars did look on
And the planes waved a goodbye

A shared space in an unshared phase
of an old friendship
Where we sought to escape
known faces, strange looks
new faces, knowing looks
and recovered what we knew and loved
about each other

Alcoholic though I am
‘on the rocks’ has always meant something else

you have aged

there are no circles under your eyes
no wrinkles on your face
no receding hairline
no grey hair
-even on the sideburns
you haven’t put on weight
any more, that is
your lips haven’t darkened with cigarette
but then you didn’t smoke, do you now?

your smile remains serious,
the kind of smile earnest youngsters have
when they discuss big issues and write abstract poetry
you even wear that ridiculous purple sweater often

my memory lens is all scratches
(did I overuse it
or put it carelessly among other such odds and ends)
but even through the tottering lens
I can see
you have aged

it doesn’t show in the face I used to know
your age shows
in me
in my face
in my being
in the time I have traveled…since