My late teens were punctuated
with stories about you
recanted with excitement,
shaped by the biases
of my best friend.
A frequent update
of the Pensacola Boys,
even long after
the roommates disbanded.
Long after you spread out,
even still after I left.
Nearly 400 miles away,
I was still hearing tales
of your lives,
your journeys
of your accomplishments,
and your failures
both together and apart.
I swelled with happiness
to hear you were well,
and my heart broke
any time one of you struggled.
And in some way
I loved you all.
I always will.
My only regret could be
not knowing you
first-hand.
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