Poem to Old Friends Who Have Never Met

When I'm not wishing I could find a unicorn

I wish all our old friends knew each other

The very least they deserve

is the pleasure of each other's company

We'd go down by the river

and the rocks would hum

with this rich collection of men & women

They would look around and see themselves

no longer isolated

no longer points in the darkness pointing nowhere

but as links in a magnificent chain of

impossible flowers

girdling the world and their talk

(they are all talkers)

would burst like spray in the sunlight

and I would smile

saying nothing

with a bottle of beer in my hand

and a small white bird banging in my heart