On My 31st Birthday (ii) (poem)

On my 31st birthday,
Tom, Marinda, and I
leave our nicknames behind
and climb on to a roof
at MIT. Look out --
there is Boston,
so close, a river's breadth
away. The night is breezy
and hazy but still
clear enough to count the stars.
Marinda points out the Big
Dipper as Tom flops down
and looks up. Feet dangling
off the roof, I talk about plans
for the summer. We are
peaceful together, sober
for now, and reflective.
Later we will sing our way
through abandoned hallways
but at this moment, all I can do
is think that this is a moment
to capture. This is a moment
to keep close to the skin.