Dating : Good Luck Gary Green

A Poem

I told him he could
follow me —

even though
I have never been
where we both will land

I just know
to look for baggage claim

signs
in this American city

But his story
couldn’t be
mine

when I was seventeen

Somewhere over
Denver he told me:

Two colleges picked
me out of the group
to throw a ball
and run my talents
raw —

Fayetteville born
and bred
so far from home

Look at this photo

comfortable hand holding
my back-to-back prom
outfits laid out waiting

matching my track star
girlfriend’s dress

she will go elsewhere

anxious without
reception cellphone
minutes from in the air

she kisses me
while I hold out the camera

I’m flying to meet a coach
who will steer me
toward Pacific schooling

He waved at me
Duffle on his shoulder

Good luck, Gary Green.