Tide and Time

Sitting on the metal seat
Knees tucked up below her chin
Is my friend
Looking for her future.

Wondering where the past has been
When suddenly we were old enough
To fear what would not sting
Or burn us palpably.

It is not knowing that strikes her
So suddenly somberly thoughtful
We tiptoe an expected line
Who's end is lost ahead.

It is, I think
Like traveling
To a place beyond our scope of thought
Described with love, but futile.

No matter how clearly
They relay what is seen
We lack the ability
Or the will, perhaps, to understand.

And so my friend sits, thus exposed
With me beside her quietly
I feel the torment inside her being
As though it is my own.

But somehow still I am detached
As she has fear where have shadow
And I cannot protect her from
The howling future vacuum.