nostalgia

the volunteers were over today. if i lived here, i would never stop looking out the window they told me. we drank japanese tea from a chinese teapot made in an american kettle and talked of far away places and absent faces. we made plans and started late, laughed heartily and ate. halfway through, i wandered off and saw the future; the inevitable leaving, the ever-constant unwinding and rewinding of lives; the forgetting of goodbyes and the quiet drifting apart; and became nostalgic for the now.