my friends & their worries,

they carry them like back-sacks,

from town to town,

checking in & checking out

where they know not

the faces of the inn-keepers

-

but they stay nonetheless,

taking shelter is a stranger’s world.

in a stranger’s word, the safe place

to lay down the heavy things

to which they have never given names,

with which they turn their bones to powder

-

my friends & their worries,

my friends & their woes,

my friends who go places no one will ever know