By April, after a winter alone,
old friends started to resurface
in strangers—on the street, in
a crowd, as a voice behind me.
Fooled by the faces, gestures,
and sounds of others, I was
tempted often to call out yet
held back, intimidated by my
desire. I began to see life as
a series of secret revolutions
in which everyone returns at
some point, but changed just
enough to distance you from
them. I found solace that spring
in touching purple crocuses
blooming at the base of trees.
INSTANT NOODLES 