The house smells like jasmine,
of a celebration,
that this is
a little like death,
a little death,
except that this time we get to say goodbye.
We get to hug it out
in between promises of
communication in the Digital Age.
But I know (and they know it, too)
that people slip so easily out of another's lives,
even if the knot of friendship was tied tightly,
and that suddenly one has moved along
without really noticing