I am not certain I will ever see
the sunlight streaming over
the plains of Texas like a river
running over its banks to meet me,
rooted where I cannot reach the runoff.

But I know that if I did, I would be
greeted with a holy kiss (or at least
a hand clasped and a back slapped
in as hearty a manner as can be managed),
for friendship is fleeting but brothers beat down borders
and the passing of time to meet in line at the gates to paradise.

When I wake up on that day I pray
they'll call my number and yours
back to back so we may meet face to face.