If only we hadn’t
clung to the school monkey bars
and confided that we hated PE,
then maybe we wouldn’t have become friends.
If only we hadn’t
spun down the street
like Kevin Bacon in Footloose,
then maybe we wouldn’t have felt free.
If only we hadn’t
dated the men that stole
and stamped over our hearts,
then maybe we wouldn’t have been an empathetic ear.
If only we hadn’t
each given birth to a girl
two years apart,
then maybe we wouldn’t have shared so much soul.
If only we hadn’t
become separated by
mountains and rivers,
then maybe we wouldn’t have seen new perspectives.
If only we hadn’t
grown old with creases
so deep that we lost ourselves,
then maybe we wouldn’t have shed a tear.
But then maybe,
just maybe,
I like to think
we would have met, anyway.
And been friends.
Just as we are.