This could be the start of something. I have that feeling,
My uncle has died
and I’m running out of people
to look up to. I crossed the bridge
The narrow streets of Brooklyn.
Was five minutes late to the carousel
but was happy to walk alone.
Tom said I was going the wrong way
so I turned around and walked with him.
I wanted to ask questions
about long poems but didn’t.
I’m running out of people