I was just thinking about how much I appreciate poetry, and how much I appreciate some of my best friends, who are some of the most eloquent, graceful poets I have ever met. I wrote this poem as a way of expressing appreciation and camaraderie with them. I hope you enjoy!

Classic

Their hands grace the atmosphere—

Gliding through with the poise of madness

Like they’re signing a poem in the air we breathe—

Do they even need sound?

I’m moved by the possession of their bodies

As they move through a sea

Of their own expression.

Nothing strikes my fancy

More than an antique, a classic,

The aged soreness and complaint

Of young visionaries navigating a modern world

That depresses them with knowledge

As much as it does me.

In my fancy, multifaceted dreams,

Maybe someday,

Our classic message will become one,

Whether the weather

Will keep us together—

These theories are terrors to test.

But maybe something a little simpler

Can join with the complexity

Of the history of relics of the past

And foster something meaningful

That refuses to aptly shatter.