Our Skies

A cool morning,

in a checkered car.

Takahiro 

my friend

sits beside me.

He will leave soon,

this land of the maple leaf,

for his home,

the land of the rising sun,

he turns to me and says

"What I will remember most

is the sky here

it is so big."

I think to myself

our sky is nothing special.

Months later

I find myself

adrift in Tokyo,

waiting to see

my friend again.

We spend the evening

eating outside in the humid air,

amidst the concrete jungle.

Where the sky fights skyscrapers,

to look upon the earth.

The building's lights

cascade the red sky

and I say to Takahiro

"I will also remember your sky,

it is so colorful."

He looks at me

almost surprised, 

and takes a glance above him,

his mouth opens to say

"Our sky is nothing special"

And I grin,

thinking to myself,

about the beauty in the way,

that it is all our sky,

that it brings us closer,

And that;

it is special.